In Season.

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.”

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.

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.”