He is like a tree planted by streams of water,
yielding its fruit in season,
whose leaf does not wither,
and who prospers in all he does.
Psalm 1:3
There was a day last week when I was walking outside and it smelled like Spring. The ground is greening; from afar the elm trees are cast with shadowy sprays of lime-colored mist, and the very dirt beneath my bare toes smells full of life and trembling excitement. Even the verges of the road are graced with the flamboyant blossoms of the apricot trees. The word apricot means “early-ripe” and we love them for their verve and for the flowers and fruit that are borne before the rest. This is the time of year when the earth cries out to be tilled and planted – touched and smelled – shared and treasured. Last week we put peas (snow, sugar, shell, sweet), greens (spinach, mustard) and radishes (mystery variety) in our garden and cleared away weeds from some of the perennial herbs and flowers. The raspberries need tended, the grapes pruned, and more seeds will need started indoors for later.
Last month I was gazing in awe at maple trees with personalities and lives that are intricately linked and marvelously unique at the same time. Now, as I pull out seed packets and choose where to start I am struck by the way that familiarity allows me to engage with the concept of each plant that is still only in seed form. It seems natural to me to know which seeds need light or dark to germinate. Which seeds need heavily fed soil, and which can thrive in roadside detritus. Which like to dry out before watering and which need consistently wet soil. I know each seed intimately by sight – even without a name on the packet, I know the minute differences between spinach and beets, tomatillos and peppers, parsley and carrots. I am awed by the fact that my tiny brain can keep things like this straight just because of the number of times that I have held these seeds in my hand and hoped for the greatness to come.
We are so blessed to have a God who holds us, small unique seeds, in His hands. He knows exactly what we need to grow and prosper. He plants and waters us tenderly and doesn’t expect us to fruit before our time.
Just like those seeds on my coffee table, waiting to be planted, we each are designed to produce fruit in season – in the right season. It would be absurd to expect melons in May or asparagus in August (at least here, in zone 5), but we take great delight in them when they do take the stage!
God nurtures and cares for us at each step of the journey, from seed to plant to flower to fruit to rest and seed again. He knows the fruit that is coming and doesn’t give up on us along the way.
Each of us will start, grow and bear at different speeds and with different needs. God knows what those are and has anticipated exactly what those steps will look like. Even in the dry times, when nothing seems to be happening, I believe God is excited because when He holds a seed in His hand, He knows exactly and intimately what incredible fruiting is yet to come.
Right now, I am excited to wait.
There is something fantastic about to germinate in this ministry and there is so much joy in the waiting.