Like many citizens of our community, the neighbour two doors south of us has a flourishing garden. It's thriving so well, in fact, that vines have wormed their way through the fencing and established themselves on a narrow patch of ground between the wooden barrier and the concrete alley way. I wondered if the huge yellow flowers would survive the traffic that moves regularly between Fir and Hawthorn Streets but they have and now, in their place, summer squash are fattening.
I've been thinking about those squash and one in particular: it's big and it looks so inviting to someone who is a connoisseur of the Cucurbita family. What's most interesting, though, is that is has remained untouched for a few weeks. My conclusion? Either our area of the community is as honest and integrity-filled as I chose to believe it is or there aren't a lot of squash lovers around this part of town.
Musing aside, there's a lot of nourishment resident in that gourd and I hope the right person (owner or otherwise) receives the full benefit of its goodness. As we consider the millions of people around the world who would give anything for a meal a day, let alone three, I can't help but grieve over the food that is wasted in this, our "land of plenty".
I've tucked two valuable lessons into my heart and mind via that rambling vine: first, may my life, like that of the Old Testament hero Joseph, provide godly nourishment to those around me.
鈥淛oseph is a fruitful vine, a fruitful vine near a spring, whose branches climb over a wall." (Genesis 49:22)
Then, there is no greater privilege than to garner my own soul's nourishment from Jesus Christ, the Source of all our strength.
"I am the vine, you are the branches." (John 15:5)
