Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good.
—Psalm 34:8
One of the prayers Mark and I have offered up this year is to be multidimensional trees overflowing with ripe, juicy fruit of the Spirit—love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. We want the goodness of God to be palpable. In John 15:5, Jesus declared, “Apart from Me you can do nothing.” If we recognized that our fruitfulness was entirely dependent on our connection to the vine, would we submit to the process and allow the Master Gardener to water and even prune?
Some fruits seem to produce more abundantly than others. I’m an independent, very direct, matter-of-fact person, often to the neglect of human feelings. My “trees” have not been weighted with patience, gentleness, or even kindness, especially to those who are harsh or “wrong.” I asked God to show me what it looked like for me to move and operate in kingdom kindness. Lemons are the fruit associated with kindness! Fragrant yet tangy.[1]
What immediately came to my attention was simply to be aware of the people in my immediate vicinity. Our faith is most concretely put to practice at home. Setting aside my first–born tendency to overlook other people’s feelings or preferences as fussy or impractical, I was convicted to move beyond myself and serve in the face of discomfort. Pick up the multitudinous plastic sealing strips from my jewelry baggies invading the house like summer mosquitoes. Wipe up someone else’s mess. Create favorite meals. Have hot coffee already ground, brewed, and fragrant when Mark arises. I was prompted to simply be aware and go beyond what I personally thought was important. But I love my family, so this step wasn’t overreaching.
My fellow morning gym rats range from one political spectrum to the other—what’s the proper response to an individual who is trashing my political convictions? I had to choose silence—to simply be still and keep my convictions to myself unless specifically asked. My impact person-to-person will eclipse any opinion I offer up, whether my opinions were factually correct or not.
In my shop, how could I respond to an unfair or unjust review? For 99.9 percent of the time, the feedback I receive from shoppers is encouraging and heart-warming, but on rare occasions there is misunderstanding or displeasure. Ripe juicy fruit would necessitate grace.
In light of Paul telling us in Romans 2:4 that “God’s kindness is intended to lead you to repentance,” Mark and I were inspired to operate in our relationship in patience and kindness with our unbelieving son. Lecturing doesn’t work; preaching and pointing out the Truth doesn’t register. We were pruned to be quiet and allow the Holy Spirit to speak. Within weeks we observed a palpable shift!
Producing the fruit also meant I had to be willing to eat it as well! When leading a church in California, one of Mark’s passions was that we believers don’t just go to church but we must “BE” the church—knit together. When one rejoices, we all rejoice; when one hurts, we all hurt. When there is a need, we move in to minister with the love of Christ.
Just as a body, though one, has many parts, but all its many parts form one body, so it is with Christ. For we were all baptized by one Spirit so as to form one body—whether Jews or Gentiles, slave or free—and we were all given the one Spirit to drink. Even so the body is not made up of one part but of many… If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it.
—1 Cor. 12:12–14, 26
The last Monday of October, driving home from the gym around 7 a.m., I apparently drove off the road and into an embankment, flipping my Subaru and landing upside down. That’s all I can recall. The first responders found me hanging upside down by my seatbelt. I woke up in the hospital with a fractured sternum and severely broken wrist. First major medical accident in my life. The Subaru dealer said the car saved my life, but I know it had to be the hand of God—not one scratch or drop of blood. After I underwent numerous scans and tests, all of which ruled out a concussion and any additional injuries, Mark took me home the next day with a massive brace and temporary cast on my arm until scheduled surgery to insert a titanium plate the following week. My main concern was how in the world I was going to fulfill and process orders for my shop. Thankfully, Monday was a holiday without mail so that bought us additional time.
I am the one who helps people, brings meals, drives to appointments, etc. Now the tables were turned. I couldn’t even hold a spatula. My left hand was numb from M.S. and my right hand was disabled. I humbled myself and accepted meals from our church, some from people I didn’t even know. The overwhelming kindness and compassion we received was deeply moving. In addition to the physical help, we needed financial assistance, as the medical bills began piling up since we don’t carry health insurance. My car was totaled. Here, too, we had to have a second vehicle so my daughter could manage her work life until she leaves in January for YWAM. Our pastor brought the need before our congregation. Mark and I have been deeply moved by the compassion and generosity of our church family from the meals and grocery store gift cards to donations which enabled us to put a down payment on a replacement car (definitely another Subaru Forester) and start making a dent in the mounting fees. Cards of encouragement and support flooded our mail.
Mark, the creative man that he is, watched crash course videos on basic jewelry techniques and helped me complete that first week’s orders and type out shipping labels, all in addition to running the farm and pastoring. Marvelous man. My children stepped up around the home. It was humbling to receive. To know I was even on a prayer list. “I’m fine, I’ll get through this,” is my human response. I was convicted of pride and humbly opened my mouth to savor kindness, to eat it bite by bite with pleasure. In this digestive process, I could taste and see the goodness of God.
Driving to an appointment, running a tad late, too, I was initially perturbed when a lady cut in front of me. My human, fleshly response would be to move in frustration and irritation, but I was prompted to consider, “What if it was a mother? How do I know why this little red car was in such a ripping hurry? What would Jesus do?” I was deeply convicted when Kris Valloton from Bethel Church in Redding, California, said that the true test of our love for God is not how much we love Jesus but how much we love Judas.[2] What would my response be right now if my accident was caused by another driver, a teen on his phone? How did my fruit taste?
I want my tree to be laden with ripe, juicy fruit, fragrant with the Spirit, sweet to taste and visually appealing. How can I BE the church to my family, church community, strangers on the street, even those close to me who annoy or betray me? I must stay connected to the Vine; be pruned, watered, and produce fruit, but humbly eat the fruit as well. It’s a massive paradigm shift for my selfish mind. Can I bring a meal to my friend, fellow believer, and even my enemy? Can I eat the meal brought to me with grace? Can I refrain from blasting my car horn and mumbling, “What is wrong with you!” Can I clean up another kitchen mess which I didn’t make?
We read in Ephesians 2:7 that God shows us “the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus.” From the morning when the sun rises, I stretch out my branches to receive. I allow the kindness of God to bring me to repentance and flourish. Taste and see that the Lord is good.
[2] https://www.instagram.com/kvministries/reel/C589TK5PTMI/
The featured image, “A Candle in the Darkness,” is courtesy of Lancia E. Smith and is used with her glad permission for Cultivating.
Mary has cherished life-long literary dreams coupled with a passion for ministry, all of which lead her to study English literature and later theology and counseling in seminary. She has been designing artisan jewelry for nine years while homeschooling son Ian and daughter Julianna. After 14 years of ministry in San Diego she and her husband Mark Miller, along with their teenagers and cat, Lord Peter Wimsey relocated to Charlottesville, VA where they enjoy farm life, chickens and all. Mary enjoys off-the-wall humor, gardening, cooking, and curling up with anything penned by Dorothy Sayers, C.S. Lewis, Tolkien, or Jane Austen.
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