Only two days after returning home I wasn’t unpacking, or resting, or doing yard work yet, I was out berry picking. It was top priority for me. I had already missed the raspberries and only caught the first week of strawberry season so I wasn’t about to miss out on the blackberries and blueberries. They are the little piece of summer that I carry with me all through out the fall, winter and spring. They liven up my smoothies, deliver delicious berry crisp that sing of sunshine on many a rainy days, and supply us with the nutrients a body needs. Oh how I could go on about how I love berries.
So we loaded up with our dear friends that we berry pick with out to the glorious Sauvie Island with its peaceful, beautiful fields that rejuvenate a soul and you can forget about the many bags that need unpacked, dishes to be washed and floors that need cleaned. Those few hours of digging deep into the thorn-less (another reason it’s a glorious place) bushes for the big plump blackberry are fantastic. The kids run up and down the rows, eating more berries than they pick and having a great time. Not exactly the slave labor I was hoping for but hey, they’re not fighting so I’ll take it.
Having filled my flats full and my heart to the brim with berry goodness we headed home. The first thing I did, bake a crisp of course. Mmmmmmm.
We then moved outside of our house to the blackberry bushes by our garage. Last year they produced nothing but terrible thorns. This year they were full of berries and inching their way down our driveway. It’s almost impossible to get in to pick most of them and the thorns on these bushes are deadly. Matt braved it by taking long clippers and cutting out branches and then we would pick them off very carefully. After an hour of brutality I’m not sure where the berry stain ended and the blood began. And instead of 2 1/2 flats, I had 2 1/2 pints. But oh, they are sweet and delicious. I wondered to myself, “How can such a wonderful thing be so painful?” It was so much work to get those berries but they are so worth it in the end when they are sitting in a pool of ice cream being savored until the last bite.
I actually think that question was how I felt about my summer classes, “How can such a wonderful thing be so painful?” It was hard, stressful, caused pain, I shed many tears, and felt I was being tortured at times but in the end it was worth it. I have a deeper understanding of God, His Word, His view of me, and a greater love for Him than before.
So many things in life are like that I think. The classic, it was hard but good. Even though it’s so painful it feels that much better coming out the other side because you know what you just accomplished. Can anyone else relate?
Tomorrow I’m off to get my fill of blueberries. Oh the delights of summer. I sure do love this place of abundance that we live in!
I’m off to pick gooseberries tomorrow, and the thorns can be as scary. I will be wearing leather gloves (gooseberries are hardier than raspberries), and caring little for bruising, since I just plan to make jam. Still, I think of something along these lines OFTEN these days, as I’m walking alongside a young woman whom I used to babysit, who is also newly widowed. I still will not call being widowed “good,” per se, but I cannot lie about the goodness God has wrought through it. I’m so glad that He is sovereign.
PS: I’ve had a lot of wine. Hope this makes sense. 🙂