where waves grow sweet

I am writing this post from the writer’s shed of our new home! Exactly three weeks after we first saw this house online, we were given the keys and brought over our first truckload of boxes. The following day, exactly three weeks after we first saw it in person, we brought over the rest of our stuff and started our new life here. Needless to say, it’s been a whirlwind… but what a welcome one! After all this time of waiting and praying, it still doesn’t feel real.

 A couple of years ago, when we had already been in high gear house-searching mode for a long while, the Lord told me “invest in where you are now.” I wrote a post about how scary it was for me to invest in a place I knew to be temporary, but I did my best to follow the instructions. The very first thing I did was to plant my potted dwarf lemon tree in the barren dirt plot in our side yard; a pioneer of my eventual, much-loved garden. Then I set about doing the much riskier work of investing in the people around us, trusting that God would heal my heart if we were to be uprooted from the area and forced to start over. It was certainly a challenge but the terror lessoned as time went on because I realized He was teaching me how to do community, a lesson I needed to learn and apply wherever we would land.

As it turns out, this house puts us less than a mile from the school Chase is attending (one that was outside our previous boundaries), and in the very heart of the community we’ve spent these last years investing in. We’ve only been here a week and our home has already been filled with new friends and old. It just seems like a place that was made for gathering. You’d better believe I’ve poured out some tears over God’s goodness to us. Not just for a house, which holds no good thing without Him, but for His presence in this process and all He has done through it to stretch us and grow us and provide for us in ways that reach far beyond material provision. With all my heart, I say thank you, Lord.

As for that lemon tree, I had imagined that by the time we moved, it would be a thriving tree with an abundance of luscious lemons that would demonstrate the fruitfulness of obedience. While I did manage to keep it alive (a fact of which I’m very proud), it looks a lot more like a Charlie Brown version of a fruit tree and any lemons it bore never ripened. Until last month, that is. When all of a sudden, the green fruit that had been dangling on that pitiful tree so long turned the beautiful yellow that signifies ripeness. What a sight to see before moving on. Chase was pretty excited about it too.

Here is the thing I didn’t foresee. Our new yard is host to 13 fruit trees, three of which are mature lemon trees – each a different variety – loaded with ripe fruit. It’s almost like God is saying, “You do your part. Listen to what I’m asking of you and do it to the best of your ability. It may look small and insignificant and you may be a crappy gardener who can’t make things grow, but be as faithful as you can and trust me for the rest. Because I am the one who makes things grow, in my perfect time, to produce the sweetest, best and most plentiful fruit. Each juicy bite will remind you of my goodness (not your ability) and there will be enough to fill many fruit bowls beyond your own.” Or something like that. 🙂 It’s like not unlike the water the servants brought to Jesus at his request. They couldn’t turn it to wine, even if they had years to do it. But Jesus could. And He did. That plain old water, alongside their humble act of obedience, was transformed into the finest wine that satisfied each and every wedding guest and demonstrated the power and glory of God. The servants got to be part of that miraculous act!

This leaves me wondering what God is asking of you. If you don’t know, seek Him out. If you’ve been frustrated by the waiting and the inability to see that any blessing or significance could come from your current efforts, please know that it is not up to you to turn water to wine or to grow the fruit. Your part – and mine – is to trust and obey and He will do the rest. Yes, with bountiful sweetness, He will do the rest.