When Life Gives You Lemons a Lemon Tree

I’m officially in charge of my daughter’s lemon tree.  Cue Bobby McFerrin’s “Don’t Worry, Be Happy” — because I’m worried.

It really is an honor to be caring for this lemon tree, a bit like being left in charge of one of her animals. Listen, my daughter has a magical way with plants. I don’t know where she got it, because I’m not exactly known for helping plants thrive. Dogs? Yes. Kittens? Absolutely. Plants? Well, let’s just say we have a complicated relationship.

But here we are, and for some reason, this lemon tree likes its accommodations.  It’s growing AND blooming. (Send all the gold stars!)  I know this sounds like a good thing, but I’ve got to be honest with you — I’m terrified. Like, what if I mess this up kind of terrified.

It’s not that I don’t want to be good with plants — I do!

It’s just so much pressure.  Caring for something my daughter loves so much? It’s one of those ways we keep loving our grown-up kids, by caring for what matters to them, even when we’re not sure we’re up to the task.

This means I’m taking my job seriously.  So seriously, that in the first couple of months, I gave it the best and safest window in the house — the sunniest, happiest window, in a room that could be closed off to keep it safe. The window happens to be... the one in my office. This means that I spent several months showing up for Zoom meetings half faded into the bright glow, squinting at the screen like I was sitting on the sun.

Instead of moving the beloved lemon tree (because obviously, I wasn’t going to disrupt its perfect life), I moved my computer.  Yep.  Me and my computer moved to the living room while the lemon tree lounged in the Bahama-like office — just to keep the tree happy.  It worked... until I needed my desk back.  Now it's living its best life in the second best window. 

I’ve watched this little tree stretch toward the light.  (If you haven’t seen how much one of these trees can grow in a season, it’s really a sight to behold.)  It’s starting to flower and I can almost smell the tiny lemons.  This tree has got me thinking:  I feel a lot like a lemon tree.

I’ve been so afraid of messing things up — not just the plant, but life in general.  You know that feeling when someone hands you something precious and you think, Why would anyone trust me with this? I keep thinking about how often I feel this way.  I feel it when someone asks me to take care of something that matters, or when a new season starts, and I wonder, What if I’m not enough for this? What if I ruin it?

Watching this little tree bloom right here in my house, under my care, imperfect as it may be, reminds me that maybe we don’t have to be perfect, just willing.  Maybe we get to grow right alongside the things (and people) we’re tending.

Are you tending something right now?

A relationship?
A dream?
A job?
Your own heart?

And are you afraid you’ll mess it up?

Can I gently remind you (and remind myself) that we don’t have to get it all right? We just keep showing up, offering care, and trusting that growth can happen even when we feel unsure.  If you are standing in front of something that feels big and fragile, something that feels like a lot, I’m right there with you.

I’ll be rooting (oops, I mean cheering) you on — did you catch that? 😉 🌱

And honestly, if I can keep this lemon tree alive, there’s hope for all of us.