Real Fruit

It’s easy to see joy on my parents' faces and the rich fruit of their labor. But so often, I want the reward without the effort.

The harvest, without the years of sowing, tilling, and back-breaking sweat. The fear of wondering if I'm doing enough. The seasons of stunted plants I've prayed over, but still seem stuck.

Hoeing weeds only for more to spring back. Dehydration setting in after just one day of inconsistency.

We all want children who love the Lord, son-in-laws loving our daughters well. Grand-babies that think the world of us . . .

But saying "no" to wonderful opportunity so we can say "yes" to what's best for OUR family?
Letting down Bill and Sally's expectations? Making society uncomfortable? Humbling our pride and asking forgiveness when we're wrong? Trusting God with our children's souls? Leaning into the hard conversations and pursuing unconditionally when all seems lost?

It’s so much easier to write on paper, than to live out for decades.

Real fruit has a deep root.

One that has pushed through bedrock and pain, hard ground and moments others will bypass for an easier path.

Today I look at this family tree and dream of my own children surrounding me one day.

But relationships are not easy, and legacy rarely presents itself as a grand adventure dripping with importance.

It’s snack time today, and folding clothes tomorrow. Trivial moments and humbled apologies. Knowing we can’t do it all and crying out to the one who can.

It’s there our faithful Creator is at work, weaving threads that one day we will look back on in Praise. All Glory to Him who builds the House.