Living Passions

Last week Little Abear, our dear friend Jacqueline and I went on a walk to participate in one of my most favorite activities of all time - picking mulberries. While this is one of my absolute favorite treats, what I love most is with whom I spend such sacred time with while collecting the fruit.


We've gone together a couple of times recently, the mulberries practically ripening on the tree as we pick the dark colored fruit, only giving us more to reach for. The first time, I climbed an old, tall, children's play set to collect berries higher up, quickly realizing my own limitations. The gravity of my height began to weigh on me, the pulling sensation uncomfortable despite the absolute bliss of the experience as a whole. My eyes were too fixated on what lay "far" below than what was all around. I was unable to push myself to my utmost limits of fearlessness.


Eager to visit with one another again and collect more of this seasonal goodness, the three of us aforementioned berry hunters set off last week on another collection campaign. This time I found myself on the same old play set, reaching, pulling branches to gather the blackened berries - feeling almost fearless in my efforts. Climbing, walking through irrigation, allowing all my cares to fall away for this one goal. It was bliss.


But isn't this the gospel? "Brethren, I do not regard myself as having laid hold of it yet; but one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and reaching forward to what lies ahead," Philippians 3:13 NASB. When we choose Christ, are we not wading through the waters of uncertainty, because there is One who is certain of the prize we are running towards? When we forget the world around us, we become fiercely brave for a cause larger than ourselves. Our greater desires take root and come forward, overpowering the fear of failure only to replace it with the courage of Christ within us. As believers, we have nothing to fear, for this sweet Treasure that we are climbing great heights for calls us to pursue wildly, and come "home" worn/bruised/scarred and joyful for the adventure.

If I prayed as boldly as I climbed, savored the Gospel as delicious as the fruit of my labor, and shared His love as readily as I gleamed at the faces of fruit delight, would my passion not become all of me? May we pursue Christ as our greatest passion, and may we reach for Him as children fearless because they want just one more taste (at least) of Heaven on Earth.