52: When Less Is More

I remember the day I got my very first bicycle. It was a Christmas morning and I was probably about 5 years old. The presents under the tree were unwrapped and we were ready to eat breakfast, when suddenly, my dad just happened to find one last present on the front porch. He rolled it into the living room complete with pink and purple streamers and a sturdy set of training wheels. I was so excited.

It didn’t take me long to learn how to ride. I’d already mastered the tricycle and didn’t find the bike to be too much more of a challenge. However, that all changed when I started to entertain the idea of losing the training wheels. 

My first few attempts at riding on two wheels were complete disasters and I eventually decided I just wanted to keep the training wheels on for the time being. However, I extended the “time being” over and over and over again. My friends started graduating from their training wheels left and right and I just couldn’t muster up the courage to try again. For another three years.  

At eight-years-old, I finally consented to the removal of the training wheels. I crashed and cried and tried again and again until finally, I took off down the sidewalk. I can still hear my dad cheering behind me as I suddenly figured out what it felt like to find my balance and ride. 

If you know how to ride a bike, you probably started out with training wheels. But I recently learned that new research shows training wheels might not actually be the most effective way to learn how to ride a bike. In fact, for this next generation, training wheels will most likely be a thing of the past. Because they now have balance bikes, which are basically bikes with two wheels but no pedals. The child now learns to ride by pushing themselves with their legs and in doing so, they learn how to balance much faster. The idea is that this eliminates the need for training wheels so they can skip that step and go straight to riding a two-wheeler. 

There’s an article by Katie Macbride that discusses this new discovery called “You Need to Start Using This Psychology-Based Productivity Hack.” It explores the why behind training wheels and why it took decades for someone to eliminate them from the start, figuring out that they might be more of a hindrance rather than a help. 

The article references a research project out of the University of Virginia, where researchers invited professional designers to participate. What they ultimately found is that, and I quote, “when wanting to improve something, it’s a human tendency to add rather than subtract.”

“The researchers asked 1,153 participants to solve various problems. These included solving a geometrical puzzle, stabilizing a Lego structure, and improving a miniature golf course. Time and again, participants chose additive changes - adding to the existing structure instead of removing something - even when removing something was a more efficient and effective solution.” 

The article goes on to explain that the participants were open to subtractive changes, but they didn’t initially consider them on their own. Adding something was their default, and they needed to be reminded that removing something was an option.

I think that is fascinating. Because while the research was specific to professional designers and engineers, I think it helps name something we can all relate to. While designing our lives, at least the parts we have some control over, we need to remember that removing something can be an option. 

We are prone to add and accumulate. We don’t hesitate to schedule one more meeting, pencil in one more task on the to-do list, or strive to add one more accolade to the resume. In a society that values productivity, we think that if we aren’t adding, we aren’t growing. And that could not be further from the truth.

In John 15, we read a familiar passage about the vine and the branches, abiding in Christ so that we will love one another and bear much fruit in the world around us. And while there is a lot we can unpack from that chapter, in those first couple verses, this is what Jesus says:

“I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinegrower.  He removes every branch in me that bears no fruit. Every branch that bears fruit he prunes to make it bear more fruit.”

I don’t know how much gardening experience you have - I have very little. But I can tell you that I’ve never been a fan of pruning. Every time Brad cuts something back, I cringe a bit. I’d rather just let the trees and shrubs do their thing. I’d rather see them bloom and blossom. But I’ve learned that sometimes, cutting back is necessary. And I’m learning that sometimes the same is true in life. 

It’s really hard for me to love well, serve well, listen well, and learn well when I’m over scheduled, overextended, and spread too thin. I need space to breathe, permission to step back, space to be present, and room to grow.  

It seems counterintuitive, but through these verses, Jesus shows us that sometimes, it’s the pruning - the removing - that helps us grow. It’s not that adding something new is wrong. It’s just that sometimes, in order to produce more fruit, in order to grow even better fruit, something needs to be eliminated. Because flourishing is often found in simplifying. And sometimes less really is more. 

We see this play out in our personal lives, in our families, at our jobs, and even in our churches. Our schedules and routines and programs, commitments and to-do lists often need a good pruning. If we are going to continue to grow into the likeness of Jesus and reflect the character of Christ in the world around us, both personally and communally, it is important to regularly consider how the Spirit is leading, discerning what we might be called to let go of.

I also think it’s interesting that God prunes the branches that are already bearing fruit. It would be easy to eliminate the sparse, ugly branches. And yes, sometimes those need to go. But pruning in our actual lives can also look like letting go of a really good thing. 

Back in remind{h}er #15, I shared that God tends to call me to no more than three main commitments at a time. If I have more than that on my plate, my work suffers and so do I. So, when new opportunities or interests arise, I have to consider what I might let go of, at least for a season. Sometimes I say no to those new opportunities, and sometimes I make the difficult decision to prune something, even something good. 

If you listened to the entire episode last week, and if you’re listening in real time now, you know that today’s episode is the last before we press pause for the summer. It’s not gone forever - new episodes will pick back up August 4. But it was still a really difficult decision for me to make.

I love writing and creating these reminders for you each week. In my own life personally, this podcast is a really good thing. But I also have a few speaking commitments this summer. Speaking for groups is also incredibly life-giving and almost half my summer will be spent doing what I absolutely love. I’m so so grateful, but I also know that in order to serve these groups well by being prepared and fully present, I needed to remove something, at least temporarily. Real talk, I’m not in a position to quit grad school or my full-time job, so the podcast was the obvious - yet difficult - choice.

Quick side note - if listening to this podcast has become a part of your regular rhythm, I’m not leaving you high and dry! I’ve created an eight-week audio series called Psalms of the Summer that you can sign up to receive each Wednesday morning until the podcast is back up and running. Make sure to listen all the way through this episode for more info on that if you’re interested.

If I’m being completely honest, pressing pause - or pruning the podcast, if you will - doesn’t feel too great. While I’m excited for all this summer has in store, I worry about a lot of different factors and kind of feel like pausing the podcast for eight weeks doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. I’m hesitant in the decision. And I think sometimes, that’s how pruning feels. It doesn’t always seem to make sense on the surface. But I’m reminded that, even if it’s not my tendency, sometimes removing something can be the solution. I’m reminded that training wheels aren’t necessarily all they’re cracked up to be. And that sometimes, a full life is actually a simple one.

Today, remember, sometimes less really is more. As we discern how the Spirit might be leading, may we not shy away from subtracting and trust that the pruning often leads to more abundant life.