the fruit that follows
“I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.”
— Joyce Kilmer
For the past few days, I've been thinking about trees.
And the more I observe nature, the more it feels like it is always quietly teaching us something about ourselves.
I recently heard something that stayed with me…“a tree, [in all its glory], never eats its own fruit…”
It simply grows. Quietly. Patiently. Season after season. And when the fruit finally appears, it becomes nourishment for someone else. A family gathers around it. A stranger is sustained. A child reaches up with delight. The tree never holds tightly to what it has grown. It simply offers it…
I couldn't help but wonder if perhaps our lives are meant to unfold in a similar way…
We spend so much energy wondering what we're meant to produce, what we're meant to accomplish, whether we're making enough of a difference.
The tree does not wake each morning anxious about producing fruit…it simply receives first….the warmth of the sun, the rain when it comes, the richness of the soil beneath it. Everything it needs has already been provided by the Divine…in its own time.
And in time, almost quietly, fruit begins to appear.
Perhaps this is true for us as well.
Maybe the invitation isn't to force ourselves into becoming more useful. Maybe it's simply to remain rooted. To receive the mercy that reaches us each day. To notice the blessings we've overlooked. To allow ourselves to be nourished before worrying about what we have to offer everyone else.
Because when the heart is nourished, something beautiful often begins to grow without us even realizing it…
A conversation that comforts someone. A quiet act of generosity. A meal shared. A prayer offered. A smile.
Perhaps the fruit we bear was never meant only for us. It becomes part of someone else's story, someone else's healing, someone else's reminder that goodness still exists in this world.
Perhaps that is one of God’s quiet ways. He nourishes us...so that, in time, we may become nourishment for one another.
A question to carry with you this week...what has been quietly nourishing your heart lately?
— Madina