Picking Blackberries

I had the privilege this week of picking blackberries with two folks from work.  We were up on a knoll with the most glorious view of three smokey blue mountain ridges, bright blue sky, and clouds like dollops of whipped cream.  Sounds blissful, huh?  Well, it was, except for the scorching heat, air that felt made it feel like you were breathing water, and those darn blackberry thorns.  Now, if you've never had the opportunity to pick wild blackberries, let me let you in on a secret:  Those things cost an arm and a leg in the produce section for a reason.  The thorns on blackberry vines are particularly numerous and sharp as needles.  It's like God himself wanted to make sure that only the very dedicated (or hardheaded) would taste of the fruit of wild mountain blackberries.  I just happen to be one of those people.  It doesn't hurt that I'm a broke social worker, they're $5 a cup in the store, and these were free as air.

So, I persisted in my endeavor to gather enough berries for one mouthwatering "run" of homemade jelly despite the pain and agony of the process.  My friend who was with me was amazing in his dedication to reach the highest branch and pick the biggest berries.  He would take a stick, hold down some vines, and propel himself into the midst of these ruthless plants all the while yelling "Look at this beauties!".  He would emerge with blood trickles down his arm and thorns torn from their vine sticking out of his clothes.  He would occasionally let loose with yelp or inhale with a sharp draw, but for the most part he went full gusto into those briers time and time again.   At the time, all I could think was "This dude's nuts."   But, after some time of introspection, I've come to realize that this whole scenario is quite the metaphor for life.

You see, sometimes the sweetest berries of our lives are on the tallest, most thorny stalk of the vine.  We have to suck it up, take a deep breath, and plunge ourselves in the midst of some pretty painful thorns to reach them. More than twenty years ago, I made a profession of faith in Jesus Christ.  I was just a child in a small country church responding to the urging of the Holy Spirit.  In the years since, I have walked through some pretty thorny paths.  Most of the time it was of my own choosing.  There was some "berry" that I thought was going to taste simply amazing, only to find out that it was rotten on the back half.  I fought my way through struggles only to find that they were so not worth it!  And then I realized....I've been picking from the wrong vines!  I've been storming my way through thickets of pride, selfish indignation, materialism, fleshly desires, self absorption, and on and on.  And then, I had a moment where the bushes parted and I was able to lay eyes on the sweetest berry in the patch.  Jesus.  You see, His arms didn't trickle blood from little thorns.  His head poured blood from a crown made of them.  He didn't have little pokes in His hands from briers.  He had huge, gaping wholes made by giant nails.  And it was His sacrifice that gave me the grace I needed to back out of the briers and try to get it right all over again.

So, this winter when I'm spreading sweet blackberry jelly on a hot biscuit, I'm going to remember yesterday and all the moments of grace that followed.  I'm going to thank God for every thorn in my life and reflect on how He has used them to bring me to where I am now....clothed in righteousness and washed in His blood.

Mirror, mirror, on the wall

Who’s the holiest of all?

Sinner, sinner is it you

pretending perfect, feigning true?

Walk the talk is what they say.

“Hey you sinner, walk this way!”

But follow too closely and you find

Stumbling blocks they leave behind.

Pride and arrogance, judgment, fear

Perfect hypocrisy is all that’s clear. 

Living our lives for all they’re worth,

Focusing our minds on things of earth.

SURRENDER ALL is His command,

It’s not about you or any man.

No pretense, no status, no power or wealth

Compares to what awaits when life has left.

So don’t worry about doing for others to see

May I live Dear Lord, only for Thee.

                                                Jamie Starkey