Devotion 391 - Raspberries

It was this time of year, when the sun shines long all day that mother would bring them home.

 

They would come in a little paper carton, just like the store would have given her, but we knew these were not from the store.

These sun kissed, handpicked raspberries were from Mrs. Kleina’s garden. These were summer to me.

Rarely did mother purchase more than one pint, this tiny basket was an extravagance and we all knew it.  Every once in a great while I would get to go with mother to visit that beautiful raspberry garden; rows of green with pink and red dots peaking through.

 

I would beg to go pick them, but mother had a reverence for this garden like it was holy ground.  The thought was never even entertained.  Mrs. Kleina knew when they were ripe and Mrs. Kleina knew just how to avoid the tiny little thorns.  This was her symphony and my little girl eyes watched in awe as she conducted it.

 

When our little raspberry patch started to produce this summer, it was Mrs. Kleina that came to mind.  We taught our girls what a ripe raspberry looks like.  We taught them how to gently lift the vines and how to lay the ripest berries on a tray.  We didn’t have to teach them how to sample the taste especially if the sun had warmed them.  They learned that on their own. 

It was Lily and her daddy that had the idea to freeze them.  I would not have had the patience for this.  I am the toddler who cannot wait for Christmas.  As the raspberries came in the house, I was thinking of sugaring them for ice cream within the hour.  Not these two, Lily and her Dad carefully bag each delicate treasure and freeze.  

We are adrift with birthdays in the summer and Lily was planning raspberry muffins with raspberry whip cream for birthday morning.  I watched weeks later as she took her dough and carefully added the raspberries. 

The muffins came out of the oven.  She was stirring and tasting the pink whipped cream.  It was a feast for my eyes to watch.

 

Finally, birthday morning for her brother and Lily was wild with delight to serve her creation.  The muffins dripped with moisture and the raspberries oozed out.  Lily’s little sister said what we were all thinking, “Give me one full of raspberries!”  Lily did not disappoint.

We sampled and savored and complimented.  Birthday mornings do not get better than this and I breathed in this memory and hoped the sweet fragrance would last forever.

This is how we want life to be – full and memorable.  

And isn’t life supposed to be that?

The older I get the more I realize God is in the business of creating full, rich extraordinary lives.  I however am often in the business of emptying.

The psalmist penned it so eleoquently,

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
    your works are wonderful,
    I know that full well.  

I have missed this for decades; we are to be full  of wonderful, because HE the creator, and the lover of our very souls has made us.

Imagine

When he was carving mountains, you and I were on His mind.

The eyes, the hands, the feet, yes, perhaps even the hips were all HIS design.  How do we ever not feel full?

The enemy is the emptier.

He strikes fear and our capacity to serve and our belief in our design pours out like rain. He fashions pride and our willingness to talk to the lonely neighbor and the snotty store clerk abandons us.  He distorts our view in the mirror and we are blinded to the beautiful God placed there. 

We are not the miles we jogged, the books we read, the degrees we have earned.  We are not the people we know, the address we live, or the bank account that bears our name.

We are like each and every one else that walks the planet, fully made, fully loved, fully designed wonderfully by the Father who adores us.

I want to squeeze the raspberries out of the chocolate as much as I want to squeeze what He has for me this side of heaven.  I want to listen with ears that hear the whispers of the Holy Spirit.  I want to walk jagged roads by His side.  I want to embrace Him in the valleys and shout His name on the mountain tops.  I want to pick the sweetness of life, even if I have to fight through the thorns, because He is worth it.  His story is worth it.  His promises are worth it.

I truly believe if we choose to not fully live, we rob the glory from His death and His resurrection.

O sweet friend, LIVE FULL!

 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.

My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place,  when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.

 Your eyes saw my unformed body;  all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.

How precious to me are your thoughts, God! How vast is the sum of them!
 Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand—
    when I awake, I am still with you. 

Psalm 139:14-18