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| Berry vines grow along the fence on the right. |
God is good
God is great
Let us thank Him for our food.
By His hands we must be fed,
Thank You, God, for our daily bread.
Amen.
Above is the first prayer my Mother taught me. There are various versions, but this is how I
remember saying it.
Yesterday
I was literally eating food that came to me freely, directly from God’s
goodness. Behind the flats that we live
in is a common area, similar to a square or quadrangular space
that is surrounded by a building or buildings, as on a college campus. Parts of it have been left to overgrow, as you can see in the photo above. Around the edge of this play area are a few
wild roses and what are called bramble bushes.
In the Midwest, where I grew up, they are
called blackberry bushes. I noticed them
last autumn whilst out with Maisy. I was
pretty sure they were blackberry vines because of the shape of the
leaves and sharp thorns.
So I waited over the coming
months—March when the leaves began to sprout, the vines with thorns stretching
out along the ground, around wire fences and along the high wood fencing. April and May came and pretty white blossoms
formed, then burst forth their soft petals and intoxicating fragrance. More weeks of waiting, seeing tiny green
balls form at first, then week-on-week they enlarged. In July those green bauble-like fruit began
turning red. Then 10 days ago, I noticed they were purple. I gave one berry a tug—but it resisted my
pull. Not quite ready. The anticipation grew.
So
Tuesday afternoon (18th August), with Maisy on her lead, I walked out
the back door, heading for that fence row and the fruit for which I was longing.
At first Maisy sniffed around, not taking
notice of me.
I reached up, closed my
finger-tips gently around a black jewel and pulled. That berry came away easily. Straight into my mouth it went…and what bliss;
only the sweetness of fully matured fruit directly from the vine delighted my taste
buds.
There I stood, feasting
from the Father’s hand. God was being Daddy,
delighting in providing a simple pleasure for His beloved Child. I had not planted those vines. Nor had I worked to nurture them, nor pulled away
weeds. No fertiliser had been fed to those
plants by my hands. Only rain had provided
water needed for a harvest. Those berries
were totally voluntary by nature’s pattern and rhythm.
Eating the fruit was not
the only joy. I looked down at Maisy, who
had come to stand next to me. Right next
to the ground were lower vines. Since I was
picking and eating, Maisy decided that they must be for her as well. She nosed, sniffed and then tried pulling the fruit
away. Dogs have no idea as to what is ripe
and what is not, so she pulled random berries. She’d bite, shake her head, and drop it. I couldn’t help but laugh. Then she’d try another one. She couldn’t make up her mind—I was eating them,
so she wanted to eat it too. I even gave
her a ripe one. She closed her mouth, dropped
the berry and flicked her tongue out. Maisy
wasn’t sure what to do.
I wanted to pick more
and put them in the freezer. Whether I get
do depends upon whether it is raining tomorrow, and how long our family is here.
“Lacey” and family are coming.
At any rate, I have been
fed and I have given thanks to our good and great God.
Serving Jesus, Author
of our faith,
“Lady Helene”
