Love Grows.

I ask earnestly this morning, “What season is it, Lord? How far away is harvest?”

Seeds of prayer have been planted long ago, watered with my tears, will I soon see the fruit? I wait, and it feels like I’ve waited as long as I can-- held out hope longer than I should, plowed over my heart more than it can take. Yet, harvest has not come. How, on days like today, I long to see the fields from your vantage point, long to know when? Why? Why not? Long to know how I can keep planting, praying, and not see any yield.

                                                                                                                                                  

A whisper. I may not be growing fruit where you are looking, but I am growing it in you.

…”But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control.”

Longsuffering: enduring pain, unhappiness, etc., without complaint n also long-sufferance: long and patient endurance

I feel right now as if my longsuffering fruit is the size of a grape, shriveled and tough. I’ve complained to You plenty, Lord. But I guess You already know that. And I’ve watered those complaints, held them in tight fists. I feel the hardness of my own soil, the hardness of my soul, not wanting to suffer long. I want the harvest, tired of waiting for the fruit.

…Love, joy, peace, longsuffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control…

This is a long enough list of fruits to try and grow in me, Lord, so why I am so hurt when I don’t see some of these in others? I am so thirsty for the lemonade that I forget that I myself am a lemon tree. I grow weary of waiting. Weary of trying. Weary of hoping that lemons grow easier for others than they do for me.

“And let us not grow weary while doing good, for in due season we shall reap if we do not lose heart.”

And while I sit here, discouraged over my own black thumb, I thank You, Lord that You are the cultivator, not me. And while I live in this clod covered earth, help me to be patient. For I know there is a garden in full bloom, more beautiful than Eden, blossoming in heaven. Help me to rest in Your peace. ^{Ephesians 2:14} For He Himself is our peace… Help me to remember that You are the only peace I will find on this earth. Help me to look to You, to grow up towards the sun. Help me to stop bending away from Your pruning tools. Help me to stop looking for peace in the groves.  

Thank You for showing me Your love in Your word today. Thank You for the loving truth.