Sweet Harvest for Christ
“Blessed is every one who fears the LORD, who walks in His ways. When you eat the labor of your hands, you shall be happy, and it shall be well with you.” Psalm 128:1-2
When I was a little girl, we often visited my great-grandparents on their farm in Singleton, Texas. The farm’s fence was covered with blackberries, and each summer we were recruited to pick until our pricked and bleeding hands could pick no more.
I never much enjoyed the picking. It was hot, sweaty, painful, tiring work. Not to mention the fact that I wasn’t even sure I liked blackberries when we started. There were so many bug bites, prickles, chiggers, and hurts that I often wondered why we were bothering to do it at all. But, out of a healthy fear of my elders, I didn’t grumble.
At the end of the day, as the sun was starting to descend on the horizon, Great-grandma, “Bees”, as we called her, would smile so big every wrinkle in her lovely 80-year-old face would disappear. After hauling in and washing all of the blackberries, Bees would let us pick out the biggest, juiciest blackberries in the bunch, place them in a bucket of ice water, and then eat them. At that moment, there was nothing better in all the world.
The rewards of laboring for Christ are just like picking those blackberries—the work may be hard, but with regard to the harvest—there is nothing better in all the world.
May you walk in the fear of the Lord, may you eat the labor of your hands, and may you have the best day you’ve ever had in your life.
When I was a little girl, we often visited my great-grandparents on their farm in Singleton, Texas. The farm’s fence was covered with blackberries, and each summer we were recruited to pick until our pricked and bleeding hands could pick no more.
I never much enjoyed the picking. It was hot, sweaty, painful, tiring work. Not to mention the fact that I wasn’t even sure I liked blackberries when we started. There were so many bug bites, prickles, chiggers, and hurts that I often wondered why we were bothering to do it at all. But, out of a healthy fear of my elders, I didn’t grumble.
At the end of the day, as the sun was starting to descend on the horizon, Great-grandma, “Bees”, as we called her, would smile so big every wrinkle in her lovely 80-year-old face would disappear. After hauling in and washing all of the blackberries, Bees would let us pick out the biggest, juiciest blackberries in the bunch, place them in a bucket of ice water, and then eat them. At that moment, there was nothing better in all the world.
The rewards of laboring for Christ are just like picking those blackberries—the work may be hard, but with regard to the harvest—there is nothing better in all the world.
May you walk in the fear of the Lord, may you eat the labor of your hands, and may you have the best day you’ve ever had in your life.
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