Now, as I sit under the persimmon tree next to our tent, I can't help but ask the question: What if life gives you persimmons? Anyone interested in a cold refreshing glass of persimmon-ade? Or how about tangy wedges of persimmon to zest up your seafood? To me, persimmons are good for only two things: for punching holes in my tent roof as they plummet toward the earth and for getting lodged in the soles of my shoes as they rot underfoot.
Having persimmons is synonymous with lack of options. It means I try, in every conceivable way, shape, and form to get the right people to try my persimmon pie only to get rejection in the end. I don't think I'm the only one who fights frustration while wishing they had just a few lemons with which to create some lemonade. People who have been given persimmons seem to have far less options for creating a way out!
But hang on, there is a point to this... and it has little to do with proverbs about lemons, or persimmons, or clean floors and shoe soles. The point is to rethink the purpose for the altered status of your life.
What if there is a slight chance that God doesn't want me to create anything with what I've supposedly been given by life? What if I am the creation that is ultimately intended to be prepared? By not relying blindly on keen "entrepreneurial savvy", I am stepping out of the way long enough to allow God to create what he wants to create. Ingenuity is wonderful, but so is seeing God's angle on your life. And in the end, wouldn't his creativity not produce far better tasting lemonade? Maybe I can become the cool refreshing drink that God prepares to replenish other thirsty people after all is said and done.
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| Under the "Persimmons R Us" tree |
