My grandson and I visited a fruit stand yesterday. It’s a seasonal mom and pop at the intersection of Highway 29 and Farm to Market Road 1431.
Their tomatoes define tomatoeness. Their peaches, peachness.
We went hoping for a watermelon depicting watermelonness. We were not disappointed.
Ezra wanted a red one. Red they had. Humongous it was. “Most of them are around 40 pounds,” beamed the young man behind the jars of pickled okra. Proud like the dad of a newborn son.
We went home with enough watermelon for days.
Fruit stand trips invariably introduce you to people who know well our dependence on a force outside us.
His tomatoes were late this year. Not of his own doing. Had something to do with the rain. As did the watermelons in dire need of WeightWatchers.
Most of us don’t experience an intimate connection between income and nature. COVID upended that for a season. It reminds us how “controlling our own destiny” is naïveté at best.
We are the actors. We are not the authors.
Remember to thank the Author for the role He’s gifted you in the life you live. A role with its share of suffering no doubt. But a role filled with meaning and purpose when acted in Jesus.