Preserves

Preserves. I’m not sure if that is a word used in the UK for jams, but ‘back home’ we sometimes call jams, preserves. It’s a nice name, redolent of having something of value that you want to save for later pleasure.

I couldn’t resist the voluptuous brambles growing at the end of the road yesterday, and within 15 minutes had 3 pounds of plump berries. I came home and immediately set to making them into jam. Preserving their taste. In order to do this, according to the recipe I found on Google, I had to cook the berries in a little water and lemon juice for an hour to break them down and make them into a soft mush. Then I added the sugar and boiled hard until the jam was ready for bottling.

There is something immensely satisfying in seeing a cupboard full of preserves. Independent of electrical power (like all those berries in the freezer). They are there for years, until they are needed.

I love the joy of sharing the bounty with others, too. Most people are delighted to receive a jar of homemade jam, free of additives.

Jesus looks at us and, (I know this is a flight of fancy), he sees plump berries. (I make no comment on the plump aspect…) All we need is him, the sugar, and the steady heat of the Holy Spirit to preserve us. Then he can give us to the world, to sweeten the sourness, to encourage and cheer, to draw others into the fold.

May you be a sweet dollop of preserves to others today!