It’s that time of year when many of us have some accumulation of green tomatoes resting somewhere near a window. The stragglers on the vines that weren’t quite ready to pick when the first frost came… and so they linger, in boxes or on baking sheets or (in my kitchen) on the dehydrator trays).
For a few days, the sheer volume of table-tomatoes prevented me from sitting down to a proper meal; though to be fair, many of my meals are eaten elsewhere (sometimes while batch cooking, sometimes while the game is on, whatever!)
So while I could wax poetic about “there is a time for everything”, I won’t; instead I share that I can appreciate the way that the tomatoes are ripening. Some are slow, some were fast (and tasty!), some of the green tomatoes ended up in last weekend’s crockpot chili. Some days I had one or two tomatoes ready to eat, other days they were overabundant (with extras landing in the fridge).
The notion that stayed with me this week, was the way that the tomatoes progressed. In their own time, not influenced by their neighbours. Some went from green to a bright orangey-red; others shifted to that rosy hue, eventually making it to an almost burgundy. The changes are not, to my assessment, something that can be easily measured or anticipated – they simply change to what they were meant to be, at their own pace.
Our spiritual growth is not unlike the ripening of these ubiquitous tomatoes. It’s not something that anyone, ourselves included, can anticipate: as we will be formed and informed by whatever life gives us. In some times, we may have rapid growth, and that’s fine. In others, we may appear to be staying the same, appreciating that a time of rest can be appropriate, and also that there may be change happening deep within that we just don’t see yet.
Wherever we are in our spiritual journey, it’s good to remember that it is a journey. And we’ll get to where we need to be – so long as we keep ripening.
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