The scissors are in my hand. I’m on our deck, looking at my schefflera houseplant.
I need to make a pruning decision. But it feels so final to make an actual cut.
I’ve been waiting for consistently warmer weather at night before I moved the schefflera houseplant outside. It thrived outside last summer, especially after I pruned it to a better shape. It looked better than it ever had.
The forecast this week is finally staying far above the 40s. It’s safe.
My husband Jeff brings the plant outside Sunday morning for me. He’s done his part. Now I need to do mine. Make the cut.
But I can’t do it.
I can get near the end, but I can’t make the cut.
I call for Jeff to come back. I need a nudge.
I need a closer.
A closer is someone who can finish the deal, lock up the shop at night, pitch the final inning to win the game.
Jeff is my closer.
Tell me it’s a good thing to cut the plant.
It’s a good thing.
Tell me this will make it even prettier.
Tell me this branch needs to go.
It needs it.
I take my scissors and make the cut. First one, then another. And another.
That’s enough for today.
I thank Jeff and send him back to whatever he was doing.
That was all I needed. Someone to gently push me to do what I already knew I needed to do. To help me finish the job.
I’m grateful for the closers in my life. For those who either step in and take over when I’m too tired to finish, or else who can encourage me to wrap things up myself.
We’re not meant to go this alone.
Thank God we don’t have to.
Do you have a closer in your life? Share in the comments.
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