They finish their apples and get to the core, find the seeds tiny and black inside. Their eyes sparkle with visions of tall shade trees with bright red apples hanging low and sweet. They hardly have to discuss it. Rushing into the front yard in a blur of barefeet and tightly clenched hands, they scurry out to dig a hole in the grass. And cupping small hands around that hole, they watch as the black seeds fall into their shallow plot of earth.
They cover those seeds and kneel beside the womb in the ground, waiting. And they water that mound in the middle of the front yard, draw a picture of an apple, tape it to a number two pencil, and stake it in the ground. Here is where we poured our hope and where we’ll wait for it to grow. Every day they run to that spot, spill the water, stand vigil to their imagination. Faithful little servants to hope.
And so we are 5 years old and wanting our apple trees to give shade and fruit and we want it yesterday. We kneel at the altar of our desire to see change now, to move things along, to push open doors. We don’t want to wait. And so because we can’t see results, we decide it isn’t working.
Did my great grandfather Pop think those kinds of thoughts as he watched his son’s New York city career slip slow into the amber hands of the miller lite? Did he wonder if those short trips to Florida with his grandson, my dad, would ever make a difference in the scope of things? Did he worry about the future of his children’s children because how could a family brought up under the instruction of alcohol ever make anything of themselves? How we benefit from the faithful world changers of who came before us. They did not live to see the change, but we live because of it. Be faithful to plant. Release the growing to God.
Tomorrow is our last day of 31. I have so enjoyed talking about changing the world with you. If you would like to read the series from the beginning, all the posts are listed here. You may also get Chatting at the Sky delivered to your inbox for free.
Incredible. Such beautiful, necessary perspective in a world of hurry up. I love this.
Emily, your posts this month have been an incredible blessing to me. Chatting at the Sky has become one of myvery favorite spots on the internet. Reading your words and seeing your photos — this is art. And it encourages me greatly. This truly is a place for the soul to breathe. Thank you.
I’m so glad to hear it, Christena. Thank you.
This post, especially the last paragraph, made me think of John 4, when Jesus talks to his disciples. John 4:34 “My food,” said Jesus, “is to do the will of him who sent me and to finish his work. 35 Do you not say, ‘Four months more and then the harvest’? I tell you, open your eyes and look at the fields! They are ripe for harvest. 36 Even now the reaper draws his wages, even now he harvests the crop for eternal life, so that the sower and the reaper may be glad together. 37 Thus the saying ‘One sows and another reaps’ is true. 38 I sent you to reap what you have not worked for. Others have done the hard work, and you have reaped the benefits of their labor.”
I love the way your writing so often makes me think of scripture. You are one of the sowers of this generation, I think.
Your words always reach down deep into me, Richella. Thank you for saying them.
This is incredible, Emily. Truly. There’s such a richness to this post. Such depth. Such hope. Such truth. “They did not live to see the change. We live because of it.”–this is really the best!
“Be faithful to plant. Leave the growing to God.” — this reaches me to the core. All of this.
Needed this today! Thank you.
you’re welcome, Jenilee!
Well, for one thing, I’m stoked about THREE pictures! That golden leaf. Slay me now.
For another thing, well, I love your “slip slow into the amber hands”. I love it all, really. And I’m still puzzled/wowed that so much of our 31 days have mirrored each other. It’s the good kind of spooky.
I read everyday but rarely do I cry, hard and hot tears. “because how could a family brought up under the instruction of alcohol ever make anything of themselves?” – I am struggling with a hard heart against a dad who decided alcohol is his closest friend. Sometimes, hearing (or seeing, in this case) the words that someone else has seen this burden alleviates the sorrow. And shows me that prayers are heard.
Through your posts, I’ve learned the art of living under God, if that makes any sense. I always had this image that a “walk” with God was something that implied I needed to keep pace with Him. Your words have taught me that I am to sit, to listen, to just be.
Thank you very much for sharing yourself here.
I know what you mean, Chelsie. It’s what I love about Emily’s heart here in this place too. For me it’s not alcohol. It’s having “spilled water” over my seeds of love, care and intentionality with my foster-adopted girl…. seven years of seasons, waiting…. and today breaking down and not even having the strength to get out of the car to visit her in the residential home where she is for a season. Why does the growing seem so broken in some situations? Did my seed just die in the ground? I often want to unearth it just to see if it may still hold life, but I’m too scared to do even that. So today I’m suspended between giving up and running away from my little mound of dirt and hoping one more day. Maybe you and I and Emily can do that wait together.
In releasing, you talk of faith…faith is the substance..of things hoped for…the evidence…of things not yet seen. A great reminder.
Wow, this was exactly what I needed to hear today–thank you! Last week, I had to make a very tough decision regarding one of the girls at our home. This morning, she had a scowl on her face when she saw me. I wondered, if in 10 years, will she thank me for the decision. I then read this and was reminded that even if I am never thanked, I must do what God gives me the wisdom to do no matter how hard it is. Thank you for the reminder!
Release the growing to God.
I used to nod my head and agree with this statement regarding others – other’s need to grow. Well, now it’s my turn to be told. It’s me that needs to release, my own self, and let God do the growing.
I have been utterly blessed by this month’s blog, by being reminded that sometimes, we have to wait behind the door. And for me, who has rushed out the door so often without even stopping to think, or pray, the waiting seems so IMPRACTICAL. So aggravating. So for me, this month, the world-changing has been in me. Being able to stop. Being able to rest. Letting grace be GRACE and nothing more. Stopping has required more guts and courage I have ever had. And it’s not over.
Thank you Emily for your words. The day you wrote “suffer,” you kept me from giving up and heading out the door, to do it my way, instead of waiting for Him. Other days were almost as good, but that day I needed those words to be able to surrender again. Thank you.