Tag: patience

Figs!

I head out to the garden when the sun is just barely peeking over the treetops before it gets too hot. The humidity still brings sweat to my arms. I carry a bag but there is little to harvest. All but two of my tomato plants have succumbed to age and heat. The cucumber vines still bear small cucumbers and yellow blossoms, the promise of future fruit, but today, my garden seems as battered by the heat as I am.

I pick one cucumber and deadhead my basil. The garlic is not ready to uproot, and the oregano never took root. Despite my efforts to prune my raspberry, it still grows with a fervor that would be impressive if it weren’t inside my garden fence.

Then I arrive at my fig. It is now over six feet tall. I thought I had bought a “patio” fig tree, but now I wonder if I will need to transplant it. Maybe it and the raspberries. Or expand this area of the garden to wider than three feet.

And what are these growths on the stalk? Are these figs?

I read somewhere not to expect figs for three years. These growths are not ready-to-eat figs, but what promise they hold!

My friends who grow figs tell me that while fig trees thrive in most conditions, how much fruit they bear varies widely. One year they will have an abundance of fruit; the next year only a handful. And, in scientific parley, figs aren’t a fruit because they don’t come from a flower. Figs are the flower itself, inverted inward, containing little crunchies which are the fruit. Perhaps that is what makes them more nutritious than many fruits.

But geek-knowledge aside, these little blobs on their little stems mean my fig is moving in the right direction. And who among us doesn’t appreciate a little affirmation that we are moving in the right direction?

Therefore encourage one another and build each other, as indeed you are doing. 1 Thessalonians 5:11.

So, amid heat and lethargy and the lazy days of late summer, my fig tree proclaims the promise of good things to come. Maybe this year, maybe not, but sometime, God willing.

It’s tempting sometimes to become mired in the swamp of today’s dismal offerings. It’s hot. There is much that could be done, maybe even should be done, but there is nothing that must be done today. No one will care if I spend the day reading or binge-watching detective shows. What is the point of expending effort that undoubtably go unnoticed and unappreciated?

But those little baby figs tell me my efforts are not fruitless. Faithfulness in the little things like watering and weeding and tending my garden does not go unnoticed. Faithfulness in doing the laundry, cleaning the house, and preparing dinner is not unappreciated. Reading my Bible daily and spending time in prayer will bear fruit, maybe not today, but maybe sooner than expected.

So let us not grow weary in doing what is right, for we will reap at harvest time, if we do not give up. So then, whenever we have an opportunity, let us work for the good of all, and especially for those of the family of faith. Galatians 6:9-10.

Those little figs encourage me that I will have a harvest, but even if they weren’t there yet, I would have held out hope that they would show when the time was right. God is teaching me patience with these perennials. I’m to give them three years to bear fruit. Perhaps, as per Luke 13:6-9, even longer. Am I that patient with other people? Am I that patient with myself?

Back inside the coolness of my air-conditioned home, I push aside the urge to waste the day in worthless pursuits. There are little tasks to be done. There are responsibilities to uphold. Opportunities for faithfulness abound. There are figs on my tree. The promise of a harvest awaits.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Growth

The sugar snaps are growing. The older ones are my height now, the younger ones are chest high. They are reaching out for anything to twirl their tendrils around, constantly pulling themselves upward. They are growing.

God fuels their growth with rain, and I provide water on dry days. They battle the weeds which have sprung up around them, trying to divert their upward growth. Some plants seem to struggle more than others.

I planted these seeds later than usual, so the garden is a few weeks behind my garden last year. The calendar date does not dictate when they blossom; the plants must reach a certain maturity before they produce fruit. My sugar snaps are still growing.

I could be frustrated that I don’t have fruit yet. It is May. But my frustration would not make these plants produce flowers. Seventy days of growth will bring fruit if they get plenty of water and overcome the weeds. Soon, but not today.

Be patient, therefore, beloved, until the coming of the Lord. The farmer waits for the precious crop from the earth… James 5:7.

Are you growing? Am I? Are we impatient to bear fruit when God knows we need this time to grow?

Some of you may be taller than me, further along in your maturity. Some of us may be battling invasive weeds which tie us down and hinder our growth. Some of us may be living in dry days; we may need the living water of communion with God before we can continue to grow.

The growing season can seem to last forever. Fear nibbles at the back of my brain, telling me things will never change, the plant will never flower, the fruit will never come. But that is not true.

Just as my toddler grand-twins will one day tie their shoelaces even though they can’t now, so my plants will one day bear sugar snaps, so we will one day bear the fruit God is growing in us.

The kingdom of God is as if someone would scatter seed on the ground, and would sleep and rise night and day, and the seed would sprout and grow, he does not know how. The earth produces of itself, first the stalk, then the head. But when the grain is ripe, at once he goes in with his sickle, because the harvest has come. Mark 4:26-29.

God is the one growing fruit. As Jesus tells us in John 15, only God can produce His fruit in us; we cannot produce it on our own. We sprout and grow, and we do not even know how. It is not my job to worry about when His fruit will appear. It is my job to stay connected to the vine, stay hydrated with prayer, and overcome the weeds. And to watch for the fruit, to put it to good use once it appears.

I am proud of my growing sugar snaps. They look beautiful to me, reaching out, reaching up, growing taller every day. To think that the dried pods I put in the ground in March have matured into these plants amazes me. God has completely transformed them. Once lifeless, they are now on the cusp of bearing fruit. Isn’t God amazing?

Too often I am so focused on what has not yet happened that I fail to see all that God has already done. He has brought life where there appeared to be none. He does it every day, everywhere. He has brought growth even when we thought it impossible.

Today, I rejoice and give thanks for growth. Won’t you join me?

Let the heavens be glad and let he earth rejoice, and let them say among the nations, “The Lord is King!” Let the sea roar, and all that fills it; let the field exalt, and everything in it. I Chronicles 16:31-32.