God did make the little red apples

The red apple harvest from our tree in the grand-sounding ‘orchard’ is in. It is so satisfying to bite into a sweet, juicy apple, knowing no pesticides touched it, and no plastic was involved in its transportation to my kitchen.

I came back from the supermarket with many things encased in plastic. Fish from the fish counter (I should have taken my own container); a handful of nectarines; pate and hummus, orange juice. Much more.

What’s to be done? For me, a bigger investment in thoughtful shopping, planning ahead, finding alternatives. For us all, louder clamouring for options in the markets, so we can fill up our own containers and choose loose produce.  

This week, I’ve been reminded of how the Lord is intimately involved in our daily lives; he has answered two major things which I’ve been praying about in surprising, even delightful, ways. That is encouraging me to say with conviction, we should all be asking him to help us as individuals to live more sustainably, so that we make less of an impact on this wounded earth of his.

Expectantly, we should listen for his whisper. He wants to partner with us in this.

Harvest Home

Plump, ripe brambles. Such a bounty at this time of year. They’ve been harvesting these flavoursome berries for a few weeks in Angus. As I walked this morning, I scoured the verges to see if I’d missed our own wild harvest here. Relieved to find that although some are black, many remain red and scrawny. More sun please.

Fruits ripen at different rates, dependant on many factors: warmth, rainfall, sunshine, wind. Filled with the Spirit, we want to see the fruits of the Spirit developing within us for others to enjoy. Some take longer than others to mature. I remember the familiar anecdote about the woman who prayed fervently for more patience, only to find her children more challenging than ever. God was simply providing the perfect environment in which the fruit could ripen – or wither. The woman’s attitude would make the difference there.

What’s my attitude today? As I cry out for one thing or another, am I prepared to find that the way to maturity isn’t always basking in the sunshine – though it might be!

Brambling

Just back from picking brambles. The sun is out; the sky is blue; my heart was singing to the Lord (and so was my mouth sometimes!)

As I filled my fourth punnet, I thought of the lavishness of this year’s bramble and cherry harvests. Delicious fruits, growing without any husbandry. They grow on the verges of the fields, fields which the farmer lavishes with care and chemicals, fields which yielded poor crops this year because of unusual weather conditions.

Everyone watches the fields for the harvests and bemoans the poor result. Relatively nobody is looking along the verges, which the Lord is blessing with abundance.

I thought of my own prayer life. I lavish most prayers on certain people and situations. I watch carefully for signs of growth. Meanwhile, what is the Lord doing along the neglected verges of my life? I am missing great things when I fail to see what the Lord is doing, and join in with him to bring in the harvest.

So my prayers  coming back changed as I asked him to show me the verges in my life, so that I can join in to bring in an abundant harvest, a harvest all down to the Lord of the harvest. I asked him to give us more workers in our community, to scour the verges for signs of growth and then to nurture and bring it into the Kingdom.

And if you’re out my way, bring some empty punnets. The verges are ripe unto a delicious harvest.

Change

Lights flashing, engines roaring, the huge green behemoth crawls through the ripe grain, its paddlewheel nose cutting and separating, storing and discarding, bringing in the harvest. The noise wails out that summer is drawing to a close, that lows and rains, gales and ice lie ahead. But today – today the sun is shining from a cloud-scattered sky and in that sun is warmth.

We always live on the cusp of change, though we don’t always notice. Day follows night and we get into a rhythm, almost oblivious to the changes all around. There are annual changes, and there are forever changes. When we were expecting our first baby, we looked forward to a time when life would get back to normal. Of course, we soon found ourselves embracing a new normal.

Today I choose to live in the joy of the moment, swollen cheek and all. I see signs of change and pray that I’ll be enabled to embrace change with grace and hope, always trusting in our loving Father.

Peas in a Pod

Hurricane winds have calmed and, though the temps have cooled and it feels as if summer is on the wane, it is pleasant enough to get out into the veggie patch and bring in some of the harvest.

Yesterday I scooped up peas, spinach, lettuce, rasps and blueberries (any wonder my back was sore?) but there is more out there just waiting to be brought in and dealt with. 

It’s so wonderful having food fresh from the garden, free of any sorts of chemicals or sprays, but ... It is a lot of work. Because I haven’t been out there checking daily, many of the peas I brought in were swollen against each other in the pods, coming out nearly square in shape because they had run out of room to grow. They are still delicious to eat, but not as delicious as the smaller, sweeter ones.

Jesus looked out at a field and declared to his friends that the fields were ready to be harvested but there were too few workers. (sounds familiar...) He, of course, wasn’t talking about the wheat or grain harvest but the spiritual harvest.

We look round our world today, in such throes of agony and despair, and see so much need. People in trouble don’t need a sermon, they need a hand. They need a listening ear and a compassionate heart and then some practical help. 

Peas only grow in the pod during the short (in Scotland) growing season before the plant begins to brown and wither. Then, whatever the size of the pea, the pod begins to wrinkle and dry up and the peas inside grow inedible.

The fields are ripe. Where can I be productive today in a practical way?

Swimming for Sticks

These may just be words to you, but to Dusty, they convey a specific meaning. One of the special walks we do together is at Crathes Castle, where we basically walk from one water source to the next and I dutifully fling sticks into the water which she enthusiastically retrieves.

Enthusiastic doesn’t do justice to the joy and excitement this dog has over a swimming for sticks walk. It is probably what her ears itch to hear daily. When the second stick goes into the water (she only ever leaps in on the second stick going in, and then tries hard to herd both sticks into her mouth and back to the shore), she races and leaps with absolute trust and abandon into the water source.

She reminds me of a young child who loves to stand a few steps off the ground and fling herself into her daddy’s waiting arms. She knows her dad and trusts him not to let her fall. Dusty is full of faith that she is leaping into a safe place, too, where there awaits a welcoming landing, and that the exercise will refresh and invigorate her.

As we age, many of us grow cynical and hard, disappointed by life and other people, sometimes doubting that God is always good, or that he does love us. In the Bible, Hosea wrote to the people of Israel, ‘Plant the good seeds of righteousness, and you will harvest a crop of love. Plow up the hard ground of your hearts, for now is the time to seek the Lord, that he may come and shower righteousness upon you.’ 

I’m in the middle of the summer months and beginning to flag a bit on keeping up with my garden. It’s a lot of work. Planting isn’t easy in itself. The ground has to be dug over, weeded, manure dug in, and then the good seeds planted. It needs to be watered on the rare dry days. Even gathering in the harvest is tough: I’m about to head back out to pick raspberries – a joyous task as they are so delicious, but still, taking an hour or so every day, not to mention time spent making jam or freezing or baking with them. 

So how do we plow up the hard ground of our hearts? 

I’m looking back to Jesus, who advises his friends, ‘...if you remain in me and I in you, you may ask for anything you want, and it will be granted. When you produce much fruit, you are my true disciples.’

How do we produce good fruit? 

I think it’s misleading to compare it all to the actual garden outside, because in the Kingdom of God the plowing and the breaking up of the hard ground all happens as we marinate in the Word of God, as we remain and abide in Jesus. He tells us his yoke is easy; he is the one pulling that plow through the hard ground of our hearts. 

As we learn to be still with him, to remain and abide in him, the hard ground of our hearts is softened. Seeds of righteousness from him drop into those fertile hearts, and watered by his presence, his Word, and prayer, they begin to grow and produce fruit, a harvest of righteousness which brings glory to God. He does it. We sit with him and allow him to do it. 

And the more we do that, the greater peace we know, the greater is our faith that when we race towards God and launch ourselves with great abandon in his direction, he will, indeed catch us.

These are the prayers that he answers. The ones he plants in our hearts. The ones we trust him to take care of. 

Lord, help me to fling myself at you today, knowing in my heart that you are just waiting for such enthusiasm and faith, and you will catch me.

Fruitful or fruitless

I’ve just been tidying up the raspberry canes. The late variety which produces huge berries is now on the dinner menu for ever larger wasps. I brought in two while wasps are devouring about a dozen.

Yesterday I heard a gardening expert on the radio mention that her apple crop has not happened this year because the wet spring prevented the bees and insects from pollinating them. 

The weather has really messed up our harvest this year. First of all the insects laid low while the flowers withered on the dripping trees, and now wasps are destroying the berry crop in a way I’ve not seen before.

I’ve been thinking about effective sowing of the Kingdom. Yes, I know that sowing is different from pollination, but it just made me think that there may be people ‘out there’ who are open to receiving good news of God’s love for them, but the environment they are in is preventing anyone from getting to them. People in countries where Christians are persecuted, for instance. But then that reminds me that God doesn’t actually need to use people, though he often chooses to do so. I’ve heard of instances where muslims in China, for instance, have had visions and dreams of Jesus and realized the truth of the gospel before any Christians shared it with them. Must remember to pray more for people in that situation.

Then I think of those big beautiful red rasps which are being mauled and devoured by wasps, and I think of Christians who allow culture and lifestyle to spoil the sweetness and nourishment of the message they should be feeding to those in their friendship circle. 

I hope and pray that I can be a big red rasp for others to be nourished on today – not pesky wasps, but those who hunger and thirst for truth.