Do you remember the story about my raspberry bushes? We
received the canes from a neighbor and learned about passing on great things to our community. I also, back in 2010, learned a powerful lesson about fruitfulness from
My Huge Gardening Mistake. I learned that you
must not let your berry bushes produce fruit that first or second year in order to let the roots go deep. God comforted me greatly with the spiritual principle that when my life isn't producing obvious fruit, it's the time for growing the deepest roots possible so I know how to draw from the Lord.
As you know, in the last three years, we've had more berries than we can even handle. I freeze them, make sorbet, pies, breakfast crepes, smoothies, and cobblers.
Well, not this year. It's been a cold, wet summer. All summer, nothing. No fruit. In fact, the plants look brown and shriveled. There's a general miserable feeling about the garden.
Perhaps, my days of raspberry farming are over, at least with these canes.
Nevertheless, by habit, I check the plants this morning to find that each plant holds more berries than I've ever seen before. I know it's
September, but obviously, the berries obey a different timeline.
I pick the first few ripe ones. They are the best we've ever had! Sweeter! Plumper! Juicier!
I learn not to evaluate potential fruitfulness by appearance, age, my emotions about the thing, or what I think is right timing. Those canes abide deep in the soil and produce glorious fruit when it's their time. Yes, they seem shriveled and brown and dying and old. But they have a source I obviously cannot see.
