Fruits of Labor
This morning is one that I have waited for since early
last summer. The strawberries are
ready. Michelle and I headed out the
door early before the day grew too hot.
The field’s website stated that picking would begin at 7:00 AM, but we
got there a few minutes early to find the parking area already filling up and
some people were already loading flats of berries into their trunks.
Strawberries have always been a favorite of mine. When I was young, we lived near the edge of a
field. In June wild strawberries grew in
that edge. Wild strawberries are tiny
compared to farmed berries, but for a week or so I would start my day by
picking a cup of the sweet little red berries to pour over my breakfast cereal. They were delicious. Even the pink milk left in the bottom of the bowl
was a taste treat.
We didn’t have any grandchildren with us this morning,
so we probably finished faster. They
aren’t usually much help, but it’s fun to have them along when it works
out. I remember Hannah, now a teen, when
she was three she and her mom came to experience strawberry picking. She was having none of it. Too much work. Too far of a walk from the car. Too long.
The climax of her protest was to plunk down right in the patch and
refuse to budge. The ripe berries
stained the bottom of her pants. It took
mom and daughter a few years to try again.
But there were several young helpers in the row next
to me today. So, I heard plenty of,
“Grandma, look at how big this one is!”
“Grandma is this one red enough?”
“Grandma how many more are we going to pick?” Grandma can I eat this one?” Grandma did a lot of encouraging and nodding
and nudging until I heard her say that they had enough for today – she can
always come back again (without so much help next time).
Picking strawberries is a lesson in judgement. How red is red enough? I hear people around me reminding their
helpers, “Only pick the real red ones now.”
But sometimes the berry is red on top and still white/green
underneath. Sometimes the real red ones
are overly ripe and shriveling up.
It makes one wonder how God evaluates ripeness. Plenty of times we express our anger when we
insist, “Too young!”, but God says, “Just right.” Sometimes even the old ask, “How much
longer?”, but God replies, “Not yet”. It
is always the one who picks the fruit who makes the harvest decision.
We will enjoy the fruits of our labor throughout the
year. Fresh berries. Strawberry pie and jam. And plenty of berries will go in the freezer
to bring a touch of June to some bitter cold winter day. Enjoy.
His Peace,
Deacon Dan
Photo by Paige Cody on Unsplash
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