In front of the house stands a tree, a portion of which is trying to bloom into spring growth, while the remainder sits broken, molded, rotted and dying. The dying part will bring more and more disease to the rest rendering it useless and ultimately fallen. The truck carrying saws and axes arrives and parks far enough away to avoid any impact of the branches.  Nearby, a fragile growth, a fraction of the tree's size, sits by in a planter, pink buds holding back, but prepared to bring forth vibrant new blossoms. With a few cuts, the trunk tumbles, branches breaking the fall on to the concrete. The diseased stump is removed and ground, new soil laid out, and a tiny tree stands proudly in the space, white petals beginning to pop.
There are times when some things need to be removed and fall out of our lives before the new can come. We grieve for what we are losing, and the desire that we must release as our eye was on the remaining green, not the blackened trunk. The new is still uncertain, immature, and fragile. Yet it brings with it a renewal of hope, making us more alive with it.

What do you need to remove or let go to experience renewal?
What has the potential to blossom in your life with this change?