One thing working on a farm has done is really made life-through-death absolutely visceral. Some of the oregano plants were growing over their baskets, getting withered or slimy wet, so my boss asked me to trim them. Never trimmed an oregano before, so I asked him to demonstrate one and watch me do one; his example 'trimming' consisted of cutting essentially the entire green part of the plant off, no leaves left. When I was done, it was just a row of baskets with little brown inch-high stumps, not a stitch of green in sight.
The event that really got me to return to Christ, or if you're feeling uncharitable, to come to Him in the first place, was me realizing that what I want most in life, or at least what I wanted in that moment, is to be burned in the furnace until everything bad is gone, and only the little speck of gold is left in the crucible. It hits right in the gut to personally enact that on a city block of plants.
But here's the thing: the oregano was trimmed a month ago, now it's that lovely pale green of fresh new growth, and the entire greenhouse smells wonderful.
