MUNCHED TO PIECES: Lessons in Heart Recovery

I first had an orange tree when I was 13; an inherited plant in a blue glazed ceramic pot from my Nana's house. This was the one thing I asked for when she died and I kept it on my bedroom floor until I moved abroad. It is still alive at my parent's house a few decades later! 🌿

During the pandemic lockdowns I started growing everything; any leftover seed from the kitchen got planted. Avocado, mango, rambutan, mangosteen, tomato, calamansi, guyabano,...My favourites of course are my mini orange trees because they remind me of home and my family thousands of miles away.

The other week one of my sentimental mini trees was munched overnight by a hungry and somewhat greedy lime green caterpillar. By morning the tree was stripped right down to naked stalks and a few leftover bitemarks in half chewed leaves. Somehow I had missed seeing the ravenous hairy muncher hatch beneath a leaf and it consumed all it could swallow in a few feasting hours.

There is nothing much I can do with it so I have just left the bare branches to gently recover (but keep checking all the other pots regularly for any other gluttonous invaders). There are now new leaf buds emerging but I wish I had seen the crawling muncher and had the opportunity to rescue what was stolen. The tree wasn't destroyed but it was severely ravaged.

Some of the challenges we have walked through feel just like this. An unexpected invasion suddenly swallows up everything green and full of life without warning.

One day all is verdant and thriving, the next just stark bare exposed twigs left.

We can't know all that is around the corner, or what is lurking in the hidden place. There are plenty of losses we can't prevent or protect ourselves from but knowing how to respond and how to rebuild is an important recovery strategy.

Healing can be miraculous but more often a recovery road requires gentleness, patience, and time to navigate at a slower pace. We may be resilient but regrowth is a process that cannot be forced or rushed. Impatience or ignorance can cause greater injury or prolonged loss.

Learning to accept what cannot be changed from the past but still take responsibility for what can be restored is my first milestone marker. No blame games or pointing fingers - the wounds just replay their pain without resolve.

Owning my part and choosing the achievable changes I can make today is my next forward step into wholeness.

This is restoration.

One day at a time. One step after another. One choice right now.

"And they shall rebuild the old ruins, they shall raise up the former desolations, and they shall repair the ruined cities...."

Isaiah 61:4