I stand at the sink and watch water wash over the strainer piled high with grapes. Purple skins glisten. As I spill them onto the counter, I can hear the baby fuss, hungry. I pick up the knife and slice the fat ovals into quarters, dark skins giving way to juicy green. As fast as I can slice them, my children eat them, taking no time to savour their sweetness. And yet, as I stand at the counter, I savour. I am struck that there is joy in something as simple as cutting fruit.
It is a wonder, a mystery.
How much thought went into the dark purple hue, the sweet flavour, the smooth skin bursting with sticky juices? To think that God created these, simple grapes, just so!
I look around with new eyes. The snow pushed up against the backyard fence—each tiny crystal intricate and unique. The trees—regal even without their leafy cloaks, stark branches scratching the sky. The flowers in the vase on the table—sunshine rings of petals encircling disks of cool green. All of these came into being with just a word. And yet, every detail expresses a love so deep, so profound, that it defies comprehension.
Last night, I sat surrounded by thick books, trying hard to unwrap Psalm 37:9. “Those who wait patiently for the Lord will inherit the earth.” I closed my books and went to bed still wondering. What does it mean? How does one wait on the Lord?
But today, I think I’m getting it. The thought is half-formed and hard to express: This pausing to savour love expressed in flowers and trees – the gratitude that Ann Voskamp talks about in 1000 Gifts – could this be what it means to wait on God?
And these new eyes that see the heart of God poured out through the physical world around, could this be what it means to inherit the earth? To have eyes that find His beauty in something as simple as a globe of fruit—could this be it?
Or at least the part of it that we can experience in the here and now?
The baby fusses again. I carry another handful of grapes over to her high chair. She dimples deep as she stuffs them in her mouth, juices running down her chin.
“Then God looked over all He had made, and He saw that it was very good!” (Gen. 1:31).
As I return to the kitchen to cut more fruit, I smile content. For now, deeper questions aside, it is enough to embrace the moment, to know that it is good because He is good and because He is love.