Picking Blueberries

My friend and I went walking through town early the other morning and we went a block or so out of our way to pass by some blueberry bushes that the city planted by the old train engine. As we were picking the ripe berries off the bushes, leaving the green ones (there are several different varieties planted), an older man got out of his car and said, "Are they ripe yet?" We answered, mouths full of juicy, sweet berries, "Oh, yes." But as we wandered away to finish our walk, he looked at the remaining berries on only one bush and said, rather annoyed, "They are NOT ripe yet!"

The fact is, apparently we are not the only ones who have come to appreciate the berries. Many people now, as they walk by, selectively pick only the perfectly ripe berries, and leave the rest to ripen for another day.

Years ago, a friend of mine bought the rights to a blueberry patch, and recruited quite a few of us to help pick for her. Picking blueberries for the harvest is quite a different experience than picking them in the park one at a time. When you pick them for harvest, you wrap both hands around each clump, and strip the berries off, ripe and unripe together, and then later sort through them, discarding the overripe and the unripe berries, as well as any leaves and twigs.

It occurred to me, as I sat in church listening to Gordon talk about Don Gibson, who recently--unexpectedly and suddenly--went to be with the Lord, that perhaps now God wanders through the believers, picking only the ripest, sweetest ones. But the day is coming when He will harvest ripe and unripe together, and sort us all out later.