Life Is a Farmers’ Market
Jeremy and his watermelons |
I roamed our local farmers’ market and discovered my friend April had wonderful blueberries. I bought a quart, ate them all week and came back for more. Then one day, April had no blueberries and only one stand carried any. They were a little overripe, a tad mushy. Obviously, the last of the season.
Then Jeremy brought in his watermelons–the best the North Country had to offer. None ever tasted so fresh, crisp and sweet. Until this last one. Obviously, the last of the season.
I’m now onto Honey Crisp apples. And as I watch one fruit or vegetable I love fade and another take its place, I can’t help but think about Ecclesiastes 3:1. “There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven(.)”
While we work our lives, sometimes the seasons are too dry or too wet or too short. Sometimes we produce much, other times we lie fallow. However, if we live our lives honoring God, we are like the fruit of the farmers’ market. We’ll grow and flourish in our season, and then lie fallow for a bit. Don’t despair–the preacher of Ecclesiastes has also said we need to enjoy the fruit of our labor while we can.
The prophet of our ages said–what goes around comes around…I choose to believe, if I live righteously, I’ll reap joy.
PS I LOVE the benefits of our farmers’ market–but that’s another blog
Thanks, Nike. If blueberries were a drug, then I'd probably would have o-d by now.
You are sooooooooo right. About the fruit. I too love sweet blueberries. We enjoyed them all summer in our cereal.
And you're right about life too.