Long Season of Ugly

The only kind of plants I’ve ever been truly good at growing are ferns. My mother loved them, and I grew up watching her care for hers. The first thing she taught me was to take them out of the constricting plastic hanging containers they came in. She would line wire baskets with sphagnum moss, fill them with rich dirt, place the fern inside, water them daily, and hang them where they would get shade instead of too much sun.

But one of the most important lessons she passed on was this: after two or three years, ferns become root-bound. The tiny sticks that the fronds sprout from become so crowded that the plant chokes itself out. Every few years, you have to give the ferns a real haircut, trimming back not only the fronds but also some of the roots. It’s not pretty.

This year was a cut-back year for my ferns. As spring began, I went into the shop where I had protected them from winter frost. I cut off every single frond. Where needed, I trimmed roots, added fresh soil and fertilizer, and then sat back to see what would happen. All spring and summer they looked barren and pitiful. I’ll admit, there were times I couldn’t even bear to look at them. The temptation to throw them out and start over with fresh, store-bought ferns was strong. But I knew the potential inside those root balls.

Now fall has arrived, and the ferns are lush and full again. They look wonderful — but that didn’t happen instantly. There was a long season of ugly before the beauty returned.

That’s exactly what it’s like when someone is walking through recovery, or laying aside an addiction, or seeking to return to God after wandering away. There is always a cutting back — a painful pruning — and human nature makes us want to see instant results. But like my ferns, new growth begins deep inside first, hidden from view. Only later does the beauty break through.

That’s why it’s so important not to give up on people who are in the middle of their season of ugly. Don’t demand to see outward results right away. Don’t question their progress. Instead, love them, nurture them, and give them time to grow.

Jesus said in John 15:2: “Every branch in me that does not bear fruit he takes away, and every branch that does bear fruit he prunes, that it may bear more fruit.” Pruning always looks harsh in the moment, but in God’s hands it is a process of healing and restoration.

So the next time you see someone being cut back, remember the ferns. Beauty is on the way. Give them space, give them time, and trust that God is at work in the roots.