Inspired by one of my favorite little
bloggers over there at LifeInGrace, today I bring you this post.
You will remember, no doubt, if you have been
reading along with all my escapades for a while, that this summer I was ravenously hungry for berries.
Of the wild black raspberry variety that God just
plants wherever he so desires.
You will also remember that, alas, against my
almost consuming desire for more, I had to leave my abode and travel west…and
then very east. Leaving my freezer and pantry shelves unstocked with the sweet
goodness of summer I knew I would be missing about this mid-January time of the
year.
And in the midst of my kitchen’s current lack
of wild black raspberries, it has me thinking.
Long before I was introduced to the berries
that grow wild in the ditches and fields and woods around my house, I lived in
a house that had the most beautiful, cultivated, intentionally in their place
red raspberries.
No surprise here, in addition to all theother wonderfulness that was Al and Ella’s house, they had beautiful patches of
raspberries. Nestled right next to the garden and the pine trees and the
asparagus bed, it was the most quintessential American summer thing this girl
has ever seen. Every morning—or any time at all—you could just pop out the
front door, go pick a handful, and adorn your yogurt or cereal or dessert with berries
still warm from the summer sun.
Without breaking a sweat.
It was glory. I know it. Along with my strong
conviction that there will be blueberry pie in Heaven, there will be fields and
fields of raspberries there too. There has to be.
My little picture, however, of leisurely
picking raspberries for your breakfast and not breaking a sweat, was shattered
one afternoon when, on my day off, I spotted Ella out there picking
raspberries.
And like I just said, it was afternoon.
And for those of you that don’t know, where I
come from, afternoon-time in berry-picking season is dastardly hot.
And you break a lot of sweats.
And at that time of my life, I was violently
opposed to sweating.
Later that evening, back in the air conditioning
of course, I brought this up with Ella. “ELLA!” I cried, “How in the world
could you stand to be out there picking those raspberries in that blasted heat
today!? I saw sweat running down your face!”
“Yeah…” she said as she looked at me with a
what’s-your-point-?- kind of face that only a woman of her grandmotherly age
and general fanciness can get away with.
“Honey, it’s raspberry season….” She said
simply as she walked away.
Hmmm….
There was something in the way she said it
that put a stop to my rant. It came with this underlying message of “If you don’t
do it now then you won’t have them when you want them. So I do it now, whether
I am sweating or not.”
For whatever reason, that conversation, and
the thought of those raspberries, has haunted me since then. I have always been
a driven sort of person; self-motivated. But if you ask me why I do what I do,
for a lot of my life I probably couldn’t have told you why. I just did stuff
because I was a do-er, not because I was necessarily thinking forward to the
future to a time when I might hypothetically “want raspberries.”
But now?
Now I want raspberries. Wild black ones. And
I don’t have them. Why? Because I didn’t pick them when they were in season.
In following LifeInGrace, I am supposed to
tell you something that I am giving up, or an “un-word” for the year. And here
is what it is:
Not picking raspberries when they are in
season.
And I don’t just mean legitimate FRUIT.
I mean this more in a general sense of not
doing something when it is the right time to do it.
Because, inevitably, I will get to the point
when I will wish I had done whatever it is I didn’t do.
Do you know what I am talking about?
Regretting that you didn’t do something way back when, when it was the right
time to do it? When it was the right season?
Yeah, well I don’t want to do that anymore. I
don’t want to waste time, or should I say “Use it up unwisely”? I don’t want to
let seasons go by that I don’t do to the utmost whatever is required.
Over the last year I have pretty much read a
Proverb every day along with my regular devotions. Do you know how many times
this concept is discussed? This not using your time un-wisely, this doing what
the season calls for?
A lot.
I mean, seriously, it’s all over.
The unrighteousness of laziness, you will
find, is a drum that gets beat over and over and over in that book. And
rightfully so. God has only given us so much time, and when it is gone, it’s
gone. Whether you have “stored up berries” or not.
Goodness.
I can look over my life and see all of these
seasons where I now regret not doing what the time required, not putting as
much effort in as I could have, not utilizing the gifts he has given me to reap
greater benefits.
It reminds me of that passage in Matthew
where Jesus is telling the parable of the Talents.
“After a long time the master of those servants
returned and settled accounts with them. The man who had received the five
talents brought the other five. ‘Master,’ he said, ‘you entrusted me with five
talents. See, I have gained five more.’ His master replied, ‘Well done, good and
faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in
charge of many things. Come and share your master’s happiness.’” (Matthew
25:19-21)
I think the reason why we DO NOT capitalize
upon our time, talents, and seasons is here right in this verse. Do you see
where the master says “few”?
We just wallow along—because we probably
think our season is in the “few” category. We look at it and don’t think there
is much going on. This is not the “big time” that we think will come. We look
around and don’t see how what is happening in our life could ever add up to any
amount of anything that could possibly effect years to come.
We see our life and we see “little.”
We see our life and we see “little.”
And for whatever reason, we have this belief
that “little” or “few” will never add up to much.
So why does it matter if we don’t put forth much effort anyway? It’s not like this is big enough to impact anything, we think.
So why does it matter if we don’t put forth much effort anyway? It’s not like this is big enough to impact anything, we think.
But that, my dear ones, is not true.
It is in these times of “little” or “few”
when we have to be EVEN MORE faithful, because this is where Jesus gets a
really good glimpse at our heart! Are we people who look at the “little” season
and go “Yeah, yeah, whatever; just bring me the good stuff,” or are we a people
who look at where we are, and no matter how small, meager, or insignificant we
think this season is, open our hands to whatever God is choosing to give us,
roll up our sleeves, put our hair up and get to work, knowing that NOTHING is
hidden from God’s sight: Even all of our “little” tasks.
And what will we find in the end? What will
be the reward of being faithful in the little things, of doing the dirty work
we don’t want to because we know that this is the season to do it?
Berries.
Both literally and oh-so-very figuratively.
Berries and berries and berries. Just when we
need them.
Because we did our work in season.
Wolfies, whatever work this season of your
life has assigned to you, do it. Don’t complain that it’s too hot (or cold,
most likely), don’t worry about the sweat that runs down your brow, don’t think
that it’s “few” “ so what does it matter anyway?” It does matter; it is no
accident that we are “in season.”
