Sweet in Its Season
What persimmons taught me about patience, grace, and becoming.
Carol and I have developed a serious appreciation for the persimmons growing around the corner.
Ice cream. Pudding. Cake. Or just eating them as they are. Apparently, we needed another reason to talk about food.
There is something wonderful about discovering that an ordinary tree in your neighborhood has been producing something extraordinary. You start paying attention. You look at the branches differently. You wonder what else you have been walking past.
Then you learn that, with persimmons, timing matters.
American persimmons and other astringent varieties need to be fully ripe. Eat one too soon and your mouth will register a complaint. The sweetness comes with ripening. Some other varieties can be enjoyed firm, so this particular lesson belongs to the ones that make you wait.
I find that mildly inconvenient. I prefer things ready when I am.
People, unfortunately, have noticed.
The trouble with wanting the finished fruit
I can look at my life and see plenty that ought to be further along. A habit I should have broken. A reaction I should have outgrown. An apology that should come more easily by now.
As a convert, I believe in becoming a new person through Jesus Christ. I would also appreciate a completion date.
Instead, there are days when the same old impatience comes out of my mouth, and I wonder how much changing has actually happened.
An unfinished season can be a discouraging place to judge an entire life.
In April 1979 General Conference, Elder Howard W. Hunter gave a talk called “Developing Spirituality.” He explained that spiritual growth requires time, purposeful effort, and dependence on God. He also addressed the discouragement of seeing how far we still have to go.
Then he offered this wonderfully plain counsel:
“The place to begin is here. The time to start is now.”
Here. With the life I actually have. With the temper that still needs work and the prayer I sometimes struggle to say.
That gives me somewhere to stand.
There is work to do while we wait
Alma used a growing tree to teach about faith. In Alma 32:37–43, he described nourishing the word of God with care, diligence, and patience, looking forward to its fruit.
I notice how much tending happens before the harvest.
That speaks to the ordinary work of discipleship: praying when the words feel awkward, returning to the scriptures, taking the sacrament seriously, making restitution when we have hurt someone, and trying again after a poor showing.
These things give the Lord room in our lives. Through His Atonement, Jesus Christ offers forgiveness and strength as we turn toward Him. We can ask for help with the very thing we are tired of admitting we still struggle with.
Time passing by itself will not make me kinder. I have to practice kindness. I have to let the Holy Ghost interrupt the argument I am preparing in my head.
Occasionally, I might even have to let the other person finish speaking. A demanding doctrine, that one.
Let people have a growing season
This has something to say about how I see other people, too.
It is easy to remember someone’s worst moment with remarkable clarity. We can keep meeting the person they used to be long after they have begun trying to change.
I would hate to have my entire character settled by somebody who caught me on the wrong afternoon.
Patience leaves room to notice an honest effort. We can hold people responsible, keep necessary boundaries, and still recognize progress. An apology matters. So does changed behavior. Small, repeated choices deserve our attention.
The same generosity belongs in the way we speak to ourselves. We can tell the truth about our faults without declaring that the Savior has nothing left to work with.
One thing to tend this week
Choose one place where you want to grow. Make it small enough to act on today.
Offer the apology. Put down the phone and listen. Spend a few quiet minutes with a scripture. Ask Heavenly Father for help before the familiar argument begins.
Then return to that effort tomorrow. Look for evidence of growth, however modest, and thank Him for it.
The persimmons around the corner have made me grateful for something I once knew very little about. They have also given me a useful reminder when I am impatient with an unfinished life, especially my own.
I believe Jesus Christ can change us. I believe His mercy reaches us while we are still learning how to receive it and live differently.
There is sweetness worth waiting for. There is faithful work we can do today.
In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.
Elder Howard W. Hunter, “Developing Spirituality,” April 1979 General Conference.
The persimmon comparison and personal applications are original to this article, not Elder Hunter’s illustration. LDS talk on patience.
Comments