On thinning peaches

"...every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful."

We're still thinning peaches on our oldest, earliest-bearing peach tree. Last year a late frost killed most of the blossoms before they could set fruit, but this year it seems that every blossom turned into a baby peach. Once the fruit is marble sized, you're supposed to thin it, leaving a 5 inch space between peaches. There are hundreds of peaches in doublets and triplets and clusters on every branch, and these need to be culled from hundreds to dozens. If you don't thin peaches sufficiently, the fruit won't have enough nutrients to mature into tasty, eating-size peaches, and too heavily laden limbs can break. So I'm thinning peaches, and as often happens when I'm working in the garden, thoughts about God and life come into my mind.

It's still the season of Lent, when tradition has it we're supposed to give careful consideration to spiritual things. Many people give up something they enjoy for Lent, or use it as some kind of second-chance New Year's resolution to give up a bad habit or start a good one. So, as I'm thinning peaches, I started thinking about sermons I've heard about culling things from your life that get between you and God, or spending extra time in acts of service to others. However, this isn't the direction my thoughts went today. There's nothing wrong with most of the peaches I'm discarding. There are just too many of them, and if I leave too many small peaches on the tree, I won't have any big ones, they won't taste as good, and the tree could be harmed.

Is it possible that sometimes what we need to "give up" is doing too much, even if the things we are doing are good things?