Ever heard the cliche, "God works in mysterious ways?" Would using a can of chunky tomato sauce be considered a mysterious way?
As I was making dinner, I noticed the heading "Hurry Up and Wait" on the label of the tomato sauce. I immediately identified with that particular saying. There always seems to be a sense of urgency rushing inside of me. I rush, rush, rush and most of the time I end up having to wait for something (or nothing) to happen. I was interested to know what the writer meant with his hurry up and wait comment so I continued reading.
"Growing the sweetest tomatoes required more patience than you would ever imagine. The soil needed the richest nutrients and the vines needed tender-loving care. Each and every tomato needed many days basking in the warm sunshine. Great flavor could not be rushed. All this hard work has been rewarded with those delicious organic treasures ready to accent your recipes!"
As I watched the deep red sauce pour into the pot, I wondered if any of us have really taken the time to understand the hard work and patience it requires to grow a tomato. My guess would be that most of us haven't. But the man on the can, who smiles proudly while holding a cluster of vine-ripened tomatoes, has and does. He knows and understands the hard work that must go into it because he is in the tomato growing business.
I then felt a little nudging in my soul to go deeper with that thought. Had I ever taken the time to understand the hard work and patience it requires to grow a person? Do I truly understand the patience it requires to care for someone from the moment they are planted to the point of maturity?
To this question, my shallow and sarcastic response was, "yeah, I have children." But as I delved a little deeper, and really pondered it, I realized that I had to change my answer. Having children gives me a taste of what it requires to raise a person, but not to grow them from the inside out.
I can teach and encourage my children, but ultimately, I have no control over their reactions and responses as they encounter the world around them. I have no way of forcing my child to get rid of jealousy. I have no power to change my child's lack of motivation to do school work, or to get rid of the anxiety he/she feels. No, those issues are a reflection of what's going on inside their hearts. It's bad fruit growing on the branch. If I could reach in and prune those detrimental emotions, I would do it. But I can't. And just as I can't do it for my children, I am reminded that I cannot do it for myself.
Jesus teaches that he is the vine and his Father is the gardener. "No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine." He doesn't stop there. "Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me." No branch, not even one, can grow good fruit on its own, it needs Him. And just as the branch cannot do it, neither can I, not by myself. He is the vine from which I need to grow. He doesn't expect me to have the strength or the power to change my heart. He is the patient grower providing me all the richest nutrients my soul needs. Quite simply, I am like a tomato growing from the Vine.
My growth will not happen overnight. It cannot be rushed. Neither I nor my loved ones around me are professionals in the tomato growing business. We can encourage and support one another, but we need to understand that we are growing in this cluster together. And that is going to require more patience than we will ever imagine.
Philippians 1:6 "Being confident of this, that He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus." I have confidence that God is not going to abandon His tomato growing business leaving us to wither and die. No, He planted this seedling as well as the seedlings around me. Although He had full knowledge of the work we would require to grow into maturity, He planted us anyways, promising that He, the perfect gardener, will see us through from seedling to ripened tomato.
What an encouragement.
