Roy’s Ramblings…

I love poetry. I have several books of poetry and I look for and read poetry on-line. I have attended poetry readings and I have participated in poetry readings. When I was in high school we had a three week poetry reading/writing project as part of our English class and I was hooked. Studying the rhyme scheme, the timing, the patterns, word choices, the double and triple meanings … all of it. Many of my friends know my love of poetry and so periodically they send me a poem that speaks to them and this past week this poem came from a pastor friend from New York:

When the Time is Ripe – Joyce Rupp

When the time is ripe, the vision will come.
When the heart is ready, the fruit will appear.
When the soul is mature, the harvest will happen.

Not to worry about all the unspoken, the unnamed, the undelivered.
Not to hurry the sprouts out of seeds, the weeds out of garden.
Let it all grow.

Wait for the ripening. Yearn for the yielding if you must,
but be patient, trust the process.

Talk to the restlessness,
sit with confusion, dance with the paradoxes
and sip tea with the angel of midlife.

Smile while you wait, empty basket in hand,
all too eager to snatch the produce of your spiritual path.

But, wait until the time is ripe.

These words spoke to me this past week. Anyone who knows me well – knows that I am very much like a border collie – always busy, always alert, always ready to act – to move and to work. My biggest flaw (among so very many) is that I do not take the time to slow down and appreciate what is. I do not take the time to slow down to rest, to relax, to Sabbath. And so we go back to this poem: When the time is ripe … the heart is ready … the soul is mature. I want so desperately to change the world – to make a difference – to be a mighty force in the storms of life. But, I also realize that I am but a single voice in that storm (and a pretty insignificant one at that) … I still am able to plant seeds. I cannot make them grow and I may not even be around when the fruit is ready for harvest. So, I need to be patient and wait with my basket and also be ready to hand the gathering basket off to the next generation. Then when the time is ripe … and only when the time is ripe – may the fruit be ready for harvest. Did I mention that I love poetry?

Blessings Friends – Pastor Roy