In our backyard, there are weeds, overgrown bushes, holes made by the previous owner’s dog, and an infestation of morning glories (a seemingly cute flower that is actually an invasive weed). The kindest comment I can make is that it is a work in progress.
But there are also a few unexpected beauties. In the spring rhubarb grows in the back corner. A cherry tree and pear tree produce fruit each summer. And a vibrant grape vine wraps itself around our fence, extending its reach each year.
Last weekend, I could smell their sweet elementary school-juice-box fragrance from the driveway; it was time to harvest. No longer a dull green, they were a deep shade of indigo. With sheers in hand and a large bowl tucked under my arm, I got to work. As I was snipping, a few of the bunches- green or barely light purple- weren’t ready to be picked. Others were on the verge of over ripening on the vine; another day and they would have been mushy and useless.
As I filled my bowl, I sensed God urging me to pay attention in this ordinary moment.
The harvest is indeed plentiful right now. Many of these bunches are ready. But some are not. Be mindful and attentive, harvest only the ones that are ready. Leave the others to me.