March 10, 2009 ~ A Vision of the Fruit Before the Seed Is Even Planted

Three seasons ago I planted a plum tree.  And, as I tend to do, I did a fair bit of research to learn what kind of plum tree does best in the conditions I had to offer:

1. I wanted to plant it in a pot rather than in the ground.
2. It needed the ability to thrive in our hot, humid climate.
3. I only wanted one plum tree, so it needed to be self-pollinating.
4. The fruit needed to be sweet enough to eat from the hand.

So, with that information researched, John and I headed off to our favorite nursery to find the best one of that particular variety.  And by the time I had done that much study, I already felt that I knew this plum tree, what it would take to tend it, and cause it to flourish and produce fruit.

By the way, at the same time that I was researching plums, I was also doing a fair bit of research on citrus too, because I also wanted a grapefruit, orange and lemon tree for our patio.  I envisioned fruit for eating out of our hands, fruit for juice, and fruit for zesting and baking. 

That Saturday morning trip to Joseph’s Nursery yielded an SUV full of trees and by late afternoon, they were all tucked away in pretty pots with rich, healthy soil and a generous helping of Miracle-Gro to get them started on their way.  Every day after that, even before brewing the coffee for breakfast, I wandered sleepy-eyed into the backyard to water my fruit trees.  They were a priority because, almost immediately, I began to long for them to produce fruit.  They received the best I knew to offer in terms of soil, mulch, fertilizer, water, sunlight, and my own time and energy. 

Morning after morning, I tended them and my eyes searched for signs of blooms - any hint of fruit.  There were times of fighting off the attacks of disease and pests, but even that was done with the hope of fruit in mind.  The fruit was the whole reason for these trees after all.  They weren’t just for show – they were to be workhorses in our garden!  Then, in the first season, my lemon tree began to bloom!  First season!  All my hard work panned out, and I could barely contain my joy!  Anyone who came to our home was eventually led to that lemon tree to gaze upon its blooms, and soon the baby lemons that hung from its branches.  I was the proud mama of that beautiful fruit, and felt a great deal of pride in my accomplishment, and our dear friends and family dutifully oooohed and ahhhed over our pride-and-joy lemons. 

As my lemons grew bigger and BIGGER (see them here,) a battle was raging with our little grapefruit tree, and we nearly lost it to some form of blight.  In a desperate effort to save its life and the promise of fresh grapefruit for breakfast, I sadly pruned it back severely and gave it even more attention while it struggled to survive.

Here is the way our fruit seasons went:

First season: 

1. Lemon tree:  Lemons!!!  Big ones!  About six of them altogether, coming from the most beautiful and fragrant blooms you can imagine.  It flourished from the moment its roots hit the soil, and it hasn’t stopped yet!
2. Orange tree:  produced blooms that were lovely, but fell off and didn’t produce fruit.
3. Grapefruit tree:  hung on for dear life.
4. Plum tree: didn’t do much of anything except produce leaves.  No hint of fruit.

Second season: 

1. Lemon tree:  Lemons!!!  Gorgeous, huge blooms with fragrance so sweet it greets me every morning when I open the door to the patio.  It’s production of fruit seems endless, and it kept right on producing even when Hurricane Ike blew through and the tree had to spend some time in the garage.  We’ve had lemonade, lemon bars, lemon cakes and all kinds of other delicious dishes all from the juice and zest of this cheery fruit.
2. Orange tree:  produced blooms that hung on through the struggle of a Hurricane and produced two precious chubby (and delicious!) fruit.
3. Grapefruit tree:  proved itself more than a survivor!  It brought forth four grapefuit that were so sweet and good that we hoped for more and more.   Four was all it gave us, but they came from a tree that very nearly didn’t make it, and that made them all the sweeter to us!
4. Plum tree:  still didn’t do anything.  Even the leaves were being munched by caterpillars and as trees go, it wasn’t even all that much to look at.  No blooms.  Not. Even. The. Hint. Of. A. Bloom.

After that second season, I have to tell you that I was discouraged with my plum tree.  After all, even my grapefruit tree, that had been nursed back to life from its death bed, was springing forth with life and fulfilling its destiny.  It brought forth fruit, and it brought forth joy in my life too.  That plum tree, though . . .  I was discouraged with it.  If I had wanted just a plain old green tree, I wouldn’t have selected a plum tree at all.  Its purpose wasn’t to be a plain ol’ tree; its purpose was to produce fruit! 

Finally, at a late summer backyard barbeque last year, my wise mother-in-love was looking at my plum tree and I told her how discouraged I was with its progress.  She, who is far more experienced than me with all things green, said that she thought it needed more sun.  “Move it over there,” she suggested, pointing to a sunnier place by the kitchen window, “it should do better if it gets more sunlight.”

So we did.  It got a new home next to my kitchen window where I can see it each time I fill the coffee pot or wash a dish.  It finished the summer the same way it started – with no blooms and no fruit.  And then the fall came and it lost all of its leaves and it occurred to me (more than once!) to yank it from its pot of rich, healthy soil that had been enhanced with good fertilizer, throw it out with the household trash and trek down to Joseph’s Nursery for something else.  A different fruit this time;  a pear or tangerine - maybe a peach.  Something.  else.  not.  a.  plum.

I hated to think like that.  We’d put an awful lot into that plum tree, but it just wasn’t fulfilling its destiny (if you want to get philosophical about it,) and it was fruit that I wanted.  FRUIT!  Not leaves!  I had envisioned those plums even before I began to research the proper variety for our region.  I thought of the plum tarts I’d bake (Ina Garten has a beautiful recipe!), of the salads that I’d add them to for a surprising touch of tart-sweetness, and I imagined myself picking one right off the tree and biting into it, and the fruit being so juicy and so sweet that it would drip down my chin and make my fingers a sticky mess.  My vision – it was fully formed wasn’t it?  But it didn’t allow for the two seasons of waiting.

My plum tree has been a lesson in waiting for me.  For over two seasons now, I have poured my care into it, the same way I have with those other trees that have already begun to give back, produce fruit and complete my vision of them.  In the first season, while we were enjoying our lemons, we were waiting for our grapefruit, oranges and plums.  In the second season, while we were enjoying our lemons, our grapefuits and oranges, we were still waiting on the plums.  Then, last Saturday as I came out of my day of hibernation . . .

I walked outside early in the morning to complete my routine of watering my garden, and there it was – like a surprise party just for me when I came through the door!  Blooms on my plum tree!!!  More blooms than leaves, and the promise of sweet fruit was restored.  I yelled for John to come - to witness the miracle of our plum tree in full bloom.  He came in a hurry and we marvelled at the beauty of those precious little flowers.  My camera captured those blooms so we will never forget that happy moment. 

“…Come back to the Lord your God. He is kind and full of mercy; he is patient and keeps his promise; he is always ready to forgive and not punish.”

~ Joel 2:13

I thought about it, and have concluded that people can be a lot like that stubborn, late-bloomer.  Sometimes, even though the seed of God’s love is planted in our hearts and lives, and even though that seed is properly nourished, watered and fed, it can take time to come forth and produce the fruit it was destined to produce.  Perhaps it was laying down deeper roots, perhaps it was growing in ways that are invisible outside, or perhaps it is as simple as needing a bit more time, and a bit more “sonlight,” but I am so grateful that the Lord is faithful and patient in His waiting for us to begin producing the fruit He envisioned in us from the start.