Gathering Fruit

My mother bought my daughter a little primary reader. It begins with Ellen announcing to a group of children, “Let’s go berry picking!” Of course, they all jumped with glee. So they went home, changed, and made a sack lunch. Then they packed up the wagon and climbed in. They all rode in the back of James’ horse-drawn wagon down the dirt road out to the woods. Ellen informed the children, “You will find berries on both the high and low bushes. Pick the best, but don’t pick the green berries. They can be picked later.” They got their pales and all split up.

Some, who were with Ellen, gathered around her as she was looking down at some berries that were laying on the ground? She lamented, “Oh, look at the nice large berries that have already fallen! If only we had come sooner. Maybe some of them can still be saved.” Later, some kids had gone back and were sitting around the wagon. They said, “We couldn’t find any berries, and, besides, we were tired and hungry, so we came to the wagon to have lunch.” “But,” said Ellen “there is much fruit to be picked. Why don’t we pick it first, and then eat? If you didn’t find many berries, could it be because you didn’t look close enough? The berries do not hang on the outside of the bushes; you have to search for them. By looking high as well as low you will find some that are ripe.” One of the boys said, “To tell the truth, we didn’t expect to find any berries here because so many people have been here ahead of us. We came along mainly to enjoy the picnic.” “If you are more interested in playing than in berry picking,” asked Ellen, “how can you be interested in winning souls for Jesus?”

“The day will soon be over,” Ellen reminded the group. “Soon it will be night and we won’t be able to gather fruit. Come with me and let us work while we can.” Picking was going along nicely and Ellen was bringing in another pale of berries when she saw some of the kids playing around and not picking fruit. At another time they were gathered around a mother and her baby. When bringing in another bucket full of fruit at another time, she saw children chasing each other. Few seem interested in harvesting fruit.

On the way home Ellen said, “Next time we go berry picking, why don’t we pick berries first and enjoy our picnic lunches afterward? Remember, pick the berries nearest you; then search for those farther away. And don’t forget, after a while, the green berries will ripen. Who will pick them, will you?”

This morning I went out to an open area owned by the power company. Last year they cut down all the overgrowth, and now it is slowly coming back. Blackberry bushes are all over the place, and this is berry season! Picking berries is so enjoyable. There are so many lessons about soul-winning to contemplate while picking the fruit that will be enjoyed later, winning some from outside of the church and some already in the church.

The firstfruits are nice and good. But the ones that come later are good too, and much more abundant. Some are just barely hanging on when I pick them, but they are the juiciest of all! Some are so soft that I enjoy them on the spot. If I put them with the rest, they would get smashed under the pile of other berries and become inedible. (I’m glad to know that the laborer is worthy of his hire!)

All berries are not created equal; they come in different shapes and sizes. Some are long, some are short and stubby. Some have large “drupelets,” some small ones. Some berries are large, some are small. Nevertheless, all are there, asking to be taken. While all are sweet, some are sweeter than others.

Some are old and dried and look like prunes or raisins, but even though they don’t have the water, the same sweetness is still there; you just have to savor them longer to detect their joy. I noticed that often dry berries grow together in families. Evidently, the branch stopped drawing the liquid of life, so they all suffered. Some berries are dry and not sweet, because they didn’t have any sugar during their younger days.

Some ripened berries are solitary in a group, while some grow in groups that are all ready 3 or 4 at a time. But I can’t be greedy and hold too many in my hand before putting them in my bag, or a thorn will jump out and prick my hand and a berry or two will fall from my grasp. Some berries have worms or ants on them that just need to be washed off. Some have been previously pecked at by birds and some drupelets are damaged. That’s all right, they are still good enough to be harvested.

Wasps were building a nest in a bush 6 to 12 inches from some large ripe berries, but I just worked right alongside them anyway. They didn’t bother me at all.

A few years ago, a man saw my daughter and me picking berries, and told us that blackberries have a cancer-fighting substance higher than any other berry or fruit of any kind. An internet article says, “Blackberries and raspberries contain relatively high quantities of ellagic acid, which has a wide range of functions: Anti-carcinogen/anti-mutagen, inhibition of HIV binding to cells, inhibition of blood clotting, and free radical scavenging have been documented in humans.” Few pew-warmers know how important it is for the health of the church to be gathering in the “wild” souls for Jesus. They may be “wild,” but they bring with them a strength and vitality that awakens life in the dead.

Blackberries are a weed and are considered a bramble. They grow and take over other vegetation. Because they are so wild, they are very sturdy against cold and disease and contain the hardiest of qualities. So, despite their wildness, their fruit has much life in it and gives of its life to those who partake of them.

Some drop before I can get a good grasp on them, which is so disappointing. Some berries drop by the ever-so-slightest yet careless touch, others because one next to them was picked, and the shaking caused them to loose their attachment and fall. I’ve tried to go after the ones that fall, but it just caused them to fall deeper into the tangled undergrowth to which they gravitated until they were completely lost from sight. So, now if they fall I don’t try to get them again. I leave them to the Lord of the harvest and for the creepy crawlies. Why go after one that wants to fall, and lose time for others that have never had the opportunity for the harvest and are just waiting to be picked? But I do hope that although some do fall, as a result, others will come up later.

Some have a rather harsh taste. They still have the cancer fighting chemicals, but no sweetness. But I harvest them anyway and mix them with the others and then you can’t tell that they don’t taste good.

Finally, I bring them all home and wash them up and get all the nasty worms off of them.

Harvesting is tiring to my bad lower back, and my hands get shredded. No matter how sweet they are, all have thorns surrounding them and all are painful to get to. Isn’t it a shame that the specie of berry that is found almost everywhere in the world has the shrub with the most thorns? You want them so badly, that you’re willing to endure being pricked a hundred times in the process! But after a while I don’t even feel the pain. I breathe the fresh morning air, and then my blood flows, and my back muscles and discs are strengthened, and I realize that the thorns digging into my skin don’t really go very deep.

This teaches us to take the bad with the good. The Lord must not have wanted us to get too spoiled. The rule I learn: All things by sacrifice; and its corollary: Nothing without sacrifice. That’s the law of creation. The gospel work is the most satisfying work in which man can be engaged. Yet we must count the cost. You want to win souls for Jesus? It’s going to hurt. You want love and faith? Expect to suffer. You want a little family like an oasis in this dry world? You will know pain. If we want to rescue the perishing, we must suffer in the process. But discomfort builds character, and its good for us. “He that hath suffered in the flesh hath ceased from sin.” 1Pet. 4:1.