Something Has to Go (04/14/2026)

I miss grits and real hush puppies. I miss the twang in voices and the metaphors that fill conversations “hotter than the surface of the sun” or “busy as a rock.” There are so many things I miss about the south now that I’m a Midwesterner, but this time of year, what I miss most are the southern live oaks coming to life when they shed that crusty, brown foliage and their branches bud out. The dead leaves gotta go so the green life can return.

Live southern oaks don’t shed their leaves in the fall. They hold onto them throughout the winter. It isn’t until the arrival of spring when hope is in the air that the dead leaves fall from the branches. The old has to go so the new can come. There isn’t room for both.

I was thinking about that this week as I noticed the trees in Wisconsin starting to bud. Their leaves fell long ago, back in the windy, wet fall. And the trees stand bare until they bud in the spring. But the southern live oak doesn’t do that. The leaves turn and over time get brittle and brown, but they cling to the tree until the new growth emerges and dislodges the old.

The old southern oaks this time of year remind me of my own life and need to shed the old to make room for the new. Just this week, I realized I need to let go of a couple of old habits so that I can have the time for new endeavors, new missions, new purpose. Lent made it easier to put down the unnecessary, the old, the rigid. Spring ushering in Easter helped me to realize again that part of life is learning to make room for Christ which usually means something else has to go.

As we continue our journeys of faith, hope and love, may the love of Christ fill us and push upon our grasp of the old and familiar but unnecessary so we have more space in our minds, hearts, and lives for Christ to not only remain with us but in us. 

Until tomorrow, let us all love well,