|A fruit that requires patience and gentleness to really enjoy.|
That day at court when the judge wouldn't hear the concerns I had for my children or the risks that I was trying to avoid - something took root.
That day in court when after speaking to the judge my soon to be ex-husband made immature faces at friends who came to support me. That thing began to sprout.
Later on love escaped me - again. I felt the vine growing and tightening around my feet and binding up my hands.
When I looked at my dreams, settled on my plans and was cautioned by my reality the branches now took a hold of my heart and anger bloomed.
In the minutes before my head found the pillow and my eyes released pools of loneliness, disappointment and rejection, I felt that bitter fruit take my breath away.
There it was - a bitterness I could taste in my mind, heart and breath. After times in court with my husband when victory seemed to elude me I fell hard. I fell back. When I got up I waved that finger at God asking him about his whereabouts and his intentions. I question his love and his commitment to me and my family. I treat him like a wayward husband who is prone to abandonment and unfaithfulness. Eventually I find myself turning away from him and ignoring his gentle calls to me. How could he let me go through this? How could he put my family through so much only to call us to this desolate place? How could he?
Then something happens in the place that I crawl to beside him. This place that he carefully carved with his arms where my body feels the weight of his protection and the comfort of his love. He speaks to me and shows me his mercies. He begins to cut away that fruit, cut down the branches and uproot that bitter plant that grew so deep.
I begin to see that he is carrying me and my kicking and screaming have only made him hold on tighter. I begin to see that he won't let us go no matter how much others may abandon or try to hurt us.
I begin to see that he is waiting for my complete surrender and obedience.
I begin to see that out of my bitter circumstances something new can take root and bloom.
Then I begin - again.