There it is, this year’s cherry crop.
Or was. A robin got it!
Last year was such a fruitful year, branches weighed heavy with apples, peaches, pears, plums…
This year, nada.
That false spring, that early warm time, fooled all those trees into pushing forth tender blooms… then, bam! The “winter that wasn’t” suddenly poured down such piles of snow and sudden cold, that all delicate small things sighed and died!
My life runs rife with such surprises. “Fruit-filled” days, heavy-blessed, can (and have) suddenly become… not! What do I do?
Is there a lesson in the garden?
Peppers burgeon with blossoms and “fruit.” I’ve already snip-harvested fresh ones twice because their weight would break still-fragile stalks.
Peas came so abundantly we need not sow more rows come fall.
Broccoli’s third picking sits waiting right now for processing.
Digging for the treasure of bright “new potatoes,” we’ve already unearthed (and cooked up) four batches. (Yum! There’s no potato like a fresh-dug “new” potato!)
And summer looks threatened with burial beneath great piles of zucchinis!
So much for veggies, so far, anyhow. The corn, sweet potatoes, and winter squash are yet to show their stuff. But yes, the corn stalks were “knee high by the Fourth of July.”
And though the fruit trees give nothing this year, among the bushes, it’s a berry good year!
Finally, the herbs wait, lush and lavish… I must harvest lavender fragrance this morning, and wash and tie up bunches of basil, tasty thyme, good Greek oregano, and savory sage. And… and…
When my life — or yours, dear Christian friend — hits what seems a time of fruitlessness, we need to look around. More possibilities may stand present, waiting, than we were noticing, staring at those empty trees — possibilities we never noticed, although perhaps present all along: Maybe new growth those low-bent branches obscured. Or, amid the weeds now needing attention may lie new surprises. (Like lettuce, garlic, and parsley that sprang back up from last year here, with winter so mild and all.) Different years (or other time periods) often produce different fruits.
And what if, what if…“the fig tree doesn’t blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, the olive fail and the fields yield no food. The flock be cut off from the fold and there be no herd in the stalls…”*
or no chickens in the coops… ?
What then?“Yet I will rejoice in the LORD, I will joy in the God of my salvation.”*
Why? Because He is my source of all my fruit. Because He’s the one Who makes water into wine, Who blossoms the desert as the rose, Who gives manna daily in barren wasteland and springs water up from rocks. Because…
“The LORD God is my strength…”*
and even then“He will make my feet like deer’s feet, And He will make me walk on my high hills” *(Habakkuk 3:17-19)
And He, the faithful Promise Keeper, gives this promise:“Those who are planted in the house of the LORD Shall flourish in the courts of our God. They shall still bear fruit in old age; They shall be fresh and flourish” (Psa 92:13-14).
May God keep my eyes open to all His possibilities.