When I was young, we didn’t have far to go to find simple pleasures — they were ripe and sweet, and right on the vine.
I have fond memories of long summer days spent as a girl at my family’s rural Ohio home. With a robust vegetable garden, apple trees, beehives, raspberry and blackberry bushes, and a span of grape vines, our family had a mini orchard blooming in our backyard. My sister and I would step outside on those hot afternoons and pluck berries – ripe, juicy, summer berries – right off the vine. There was no need to hop in the car and go to the grocery store for food. In fact, there was nothing to stop us from taking of the fruit whenever we pleased. (And pleased we were!) We’d snack until our fingers were purple and the juice dripped off our chins, smiling all the time.
It’s funny how an experience can be remembered one way – as blackberry bushes teeming with fruit – when in actuality, that memory couldn’t be further from the truth. Those bushes in the yard had to be cultivated. So much happened before the fruit was ready to be harvested. There had to be sun. And rain. Flowers to bloom and bees to pollinate. More rain. And time – lots of time. While we were out playing tag or hide-and-seek through the yard, those bushes were working. Always growing. Seeking the sun’s rays. Blossoming. Drinking. Changing…becoming what they were meant to be.
I don’t know about you, but I’m an impatient person at times. Had I stepped outside to those berry bushes as an adult, I have a sneaking suspicion that I might have stood watch, tapping my foot, waiting for those berries to hurry up and grow already…
Where’s the harvest?
So where is that harvest?
It’s an easy question to ask. Believe me — I’ve asked it of God a time or two myself. I’ve had to wait on things and it’s NOT easy. When we pray and wait, pray and wait some more, we may think we’ve been left out in the yard like those berry bushes. Untended. Forced to fend for ourselves. Lost, perhaps, when nothing happens right away? Yet all along, there in the background, is the growth. There’s the sun and His life-giving water. We’re afforded the time necessary to develop, to produce fruit, to be pruned and perfected in His holy image… We’re on the vine.
If you’re in a place of “Where’s the harvest?” today, you’re not alone.
You might be reading this because you want to be an author someday and it’s tough to wait it out. Or maybe, you’re a reader looking for encouragement. Maybe you need a job, or a clean bill of health, a bridge built to repair a broken relationship or a light shed on your next steps. (You could even be my Momma – Hi Mom! – She frequently stops by this blog…) You could be a weary mom who has about 5 seconds left to read before someone wakes up and comes knocking at your bedroom door.
Whatever the situation you’re in, remember the vine.
We’ll not have to go without the sun, or water to quench our roots, or a light breeze to give comfort. We’re on the vine. The vine, dear friends! We’re His. Loved. Pruned because it makes the dead fade away and the life blossom into beautiful, vibrant fruit! Remember that in the waiting. We’re on the vine and the harvest is coming, because it’s always connected to Him.