When You’re too late to Harvest

Last spring, we lived in a neighborhood that still had a family-owned orange grove right in the middle of it, which is rare in Central Florida with all the recent development. I enjoyed the grove in bloom on my daily runs. If you’ve never experienced how heavenly an orange grove smells in bloom, you’re missing out. Consider this your invitation to come to Florida in Spring. Most snowbirds have migrated back home by this time, and the weather won’t disappoint.

A grove in full bloom was one of my favorite things about that neighborhood and one of the few things I loved about being there, even if only for a short season. We made an unexpected move last fall, and as peak orange blossom season approaches, I’ve been reminded how much I miss the simple pleasure of smelling a blossoming tree, or a whole grove.

When we moved, I was disappointed about not getting to see the grove fruit. Little did I know I was in for a surprise: a single orange tree branch had worked its way through an opening in the neighbor’s fence at my mom’s house where we’ve planted these last 6 months. It had one perfect orange hanging from it. It felt like God was saying, “I see you. I notice event the tiniest things that you love. Even amidst transition, I have something for you.” It was a gift only He could have prepared long before I knew I’d have to move…again!

I was delighted and did what many of us do when given a tangible hope: I admired that fruit to preserve the hope it offered me. I’d peek at the orange just about every day; it made me feel cared for in ways I can’t really explain. It was a balm and held significant meaning for my business: even a single piece of fruit is worth the work and the wait. Then, Florida experienced an unexpected, unseasonal bout of very cold weather that caused my beloved orange to wither and fall, and I was crushed.

I was mostly to blame, although I could not have foreseen the weather. At any point during those weeks, I could have harvested that fruit. Instead, I left it dangling on its branch— I observed, admired, and delighted in it, but didn’t allow myself to pick and fully enjoy it. My scarcity mentality won out. I believed the lie that this orange might be the only one meant for me. My fear of the unknown and my lack of faith in future fruit and in God’s ability to provide abundance held me back and limited my enjoyment of a gift freely given.

You can absolutely miss the chance to enjoy the fruit God is giving you when it’s at its peak. I wish I had harvested that orange while I had the chance and allowed myself to enjoy it. If God has placed fruit in front of you, don’t buy into a scarcity mindset; harvest it, knowing God delights in the bearing of fruit, and there is surely more to come.