As Seamus Heaney wrote in his poem, “Blackberry Picking,” the red berries finally “inked up and that hunger / sent us out” to harvest.
It’s all poetry in my yard today:
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| Ripe Blackberries |
The blackberries bring a joy I can’t name. I don’t need anything else but those warm berries in my hand. They deliver a dark, sweet pleasure.
It’s a daily provision–just a handful of fruit–each morning.
We turn to the overgrown, unattended vegetable garden, and I send the girls within the tangled vines like jungle explorers.
The oldest sends up the offering.
Another handful–just enough–for lunch. I’d been thinking of the beauty of the Lord’s prayer: Give us this day our daily bread. There’s just enough today. We don’t store or fret over this. We just open our hands and are filled with what we need for today.
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Journal: Hold your palm open and ask God to fill it with what you need today.
