Every time we visit my parents in Oregon, we love to take a tour of the property and see what's growing. Different things will ripen at different times throughout the summer. So today we nibbled on raspberries and stuffed ourselves full of blueberries. Then we plucked perfect, orange carrots and baby potatoes out of the ground. We admired the clusters of future blackberries and raw figs, and apples that were still the size of walnuts. The persimmons were just flowers while the vineyards were covered in little tiny infant grape buds, that resembled baby's breath flowers. The squash and beans and cucumber plants were still far behind, filling out only in green.
There is so much to admire and enjoy and watch on this property. So many things growing and ripening. I can't imagine a more enjoyable vacation spot during Summer's growing period. As I walked around, snapping one picture after another, I had to stop when I came to the boysenberries. An entire 20-foot row of huge bushes, next to the blueberry patch, absolutely filled with very immature berries. There was something about them that spoke to me. Whereas all the other fruits I admired were hiding under leaves and branches or buried in the earth, the boysenberries were all perched on the ends of their branches extending their bodies towards the sun. All of them. Hundreds and thousands of them, just reaching. Nothing hindered their extension towards the sun. They were not tucked away. It was as if they rose above everything around them for one purpose.
I stood there just looking at them, thinking, Wow, they really know what's up, don't they?
I admired the patience and determination of the little green berries. Just reaching and waiting. Just waiting for the sun to work its magic.
I snapped a picture of their content little selves and wondered, Am I patient? Do I wait on God? Would I be willing to just sit there and wait until He determines it is the right time for me to bloom?
If the boysenberries could experience awareness, they might think, Hey, I've been here just as long as those blueberries. And yet I'm still sitting here waiting to ripen. No one cares about me. No one is taking pictures of me or smacking their lips in satisfaction as they enjoy my fruit. Why do I have to ripen so much later? Why not now?
Okay, yes, it is silly to personify a bunch of boysenberries but I'm trying to make a point about my own shortcomings.
I can't tell you how many times I have been impatient with God. I have so much growth I still need to experience and I just want to be a better person already. But all I can do is sit here with nothing to do except to wait on Him. I can't move His hand any more than the boysenberries can force the sun to ripen them prematurely. They cannot control the power of the sun; they can only absorb it and be changed from the inside. And that sounds great and amazing. But, oh man! It's so difficult to wait sometimes!
I see the lesson in those little berries, standing at attention, holding their heads up high. I see how peaceful it can be to just hang around and enjoy the Son while the Maker of all good things prepares me to grow in His love. And I can see how important it is to get out from under the shadows and really reeeacchhhh for the Son.
I love that God is the one that does the work for me. I just enjoy His presence and then the Master Gardener comes in and produces the fruit in my life.
Thank you, little berries, for reminding me to remain patient. God isn't done with me yet and so I will wait.
