Have you ever planted a fruit tree?

I once brought home a bundle of dead sticks from my Aunt’s home in Texas, with her strong assurances they would someday yield a fig tree. It seemed only slightly more plausible than magic beans. 

I stuck the forlorn sticks in the cold winter ground and felt I fulfilled my duties in regards to the alleged fig tree. 

Years passed. We mowed around the sticks and laughed about them every summer. 

And then, one spring, many years past hope that we had done anything more than transplant sticks, buds appeared.  Our first harvest was 3 figs. 

It was a miracle. 

We’ve since moved from that house and seen our dear friends move in. They’ve let us know that the dead-stick-fig-tree has become an abundant, extravagant, space hogging nuisance. 

Why are we talking about trees?  

Because they’re my favorite. 

Take a minute to read Psalm 1 with me:

Blessed is the one
who does not walk in step with the wicked
or stand in the way that sinners take
or sit in the company of mockers,

but whose delight is in the law of the Lord,
and who meditates on his law day and night.

That person is like a tree planted by streams of water,
which yields its fruit in season
and whose leaf does not wither—
whatever they do prospers.

Not so the wicked!
They are like chaff
that the wind blows away.

Therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgment,
nor sinners in the assembly of the righteous.

For the Lord watches over the way of the righteous,
but the way of the wicked leads to destruction.

Do you know that the Psalms are part of an ancient, sacred text?  I fear that perhaps in our exuberance to make the Bible accessible we’ve forgotten that it was largely written in the context of a near-Eastern agricultural society. 

In other words, asking the original audience what they knew about fruit trees is laughable. They lived and died by their ability to tend orchards, seasonal gardens, and flocks. They knew about trees. 

So we see here a Psalm reminding us that to meditate day and night on the Word is to be like a tree in the best of circumstances, yielding fruit. 

Friends, fruit isn’t fast food. It’s the literal opposite. Seed to tree to bud to fruit to harvest is the work of many years. 

I wonder if we might be able to delight together in that. Fruit is the work of years. 

(An aside, bc it’s me and I feel the need for great accuracy: in season, from bud to fruit, it’s a little closer to 2-6 months.)

You know what’s my favorite?  

The invitation here is not just a returning to the Word over and over again but a call to stake my life on the promise that God through His Word intends to nourish me and provide for my flourishing.  This frees me to submit my selfish, panicky impatience to a God who lavishes years on producing His Kingdom work in me.  It requires the quiet, daily, patient work of discovering Him in His Word.  And that’s my favorite.