|Green Tomatoes Before the Frost|
We hear that a frost will come this week. It seems so tragic: dozens of beautiful tomatoes that never had a chance to ripen.
I've never ripened tomatoes this way. It seems unusual and unnatural. It's an entirely different means to a harvest.
|Wrapping tomatoes in newspaper|
We eagerly wrap tomatoes like little gifts and hide them away to ripen. We'll peek in on them every week and watch their progress. It's not the way it's supposed to happen, but it works. It's exactly right for this season.
I'm up to my elbows in unripe tomatoes that will ripen in an unexpected way--a way I didn't imagine existed. No God-given dream in my life has turned out in the manner I imagined. The right process, the plan that was supposed to unfold in a particular way, veered off into orbit and produced a harvest in a different way, under different conditions. I've learned to trust this concept. I've learned to accept, trust, and then rejoice when Plan A fails.
I hold my dreams loosely--gently wrapped and tucked away. God knows when and how they'll come about.