So apparently, we are known by the kind of fruit we, as believers, produce. (Matthew 7:17-20)
No pressure, of course.
We desire for our fruit to be sweet. Juicy. Healthy. Supple.
We want it to be in-focus and easily seen by others.
But sometimes, OK, alot of times, my fruit is out of focus.
Sure, you can still see it. Just not so clearly.
Don’t you think Paul just kinda nails the human condition when he says, “I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do.” (Romans 7:15)
Um, yeah, Paul. Right there with you.
Because while I want my fruit to look like this:
It’s actually been looking more like this:
Yeah, that’s me. That dark, shriveled up one on the ground.
We bleed out for so much. Which is OK – as long as we are getting transfusions along the way.
Continuously bleeding out without the transfusions? Oh, girl. That’s some dangerous fruit.
And the number one consumer of the blood of our fruit?
Exhaustion. An over-scheduled schedule. Being needed too much. (Yes, there is such a thing.)
I’m going to focus on this relaunch and step back from writing much this week. I’m tired. I need a transfusion.
My fruit is ugly and I don’t want to be known for ugly fruit.
Of course, I’m not going away because I’ve tried in the past and I can’t. That’s like cutting off a limb. No pun intended.
Mommy on Fire is closing. Natalie Snapp dot com is being born. There is transition in these seasons and a changing of the guard and it’s all good and from Him.
But it’s only good if I uphold my end of the bargain. And lately, I haven’t been.
I’ve been short. Tired. Less patient than I want to be. Grouchy to those I love the most.
And so I breathe-in and release and know He keeps me covered with a grace I just can’t even begin to understand. And in case you’re wondering, He does that for you, too.
He hems me in and I take it, I take this protection to retreat and to rest and receive a much-needed and long overdue transfusion.
I’ll be back later this week or early next. I’m not sure of the exact launch date yet but you will know as soon as I know.
In the meantime, I invite you to rest as well. To examine your own fruit and to rest in the grace that doesn’t discriminate.
Rest in His hemming-in . . .