September 11

"My soul desired the first-ripe fruit."—Micah 7:1.

FRUIT Thou desirest to have from me, Thou good Husbandman. Not certainly the weeds of actual and hideous sin. Not the barrenness and emptiness of a life indifferent to Thee. Not the works of the flesh, nor yet the works of the soul, wrought in irksomeness and pride. Not the flowers only of natural disposition and grace—the testimonium animæ naturaliter Christianæ, to adopt Tertullian's suggestive phrase. No, but fruit of Thy creating, fruit that comes spontaneously from the new heart, fruit of Canaan and not of Egypt.

But this is not all. Thou desirest the first-ripe fruit. The fig in its sweetness. The apple when its juices are fullest and richest. The barley and wheat with ears compact and overflowing.

I notice how easily the ripe fruit can be distinguished from the leaves that are about it, and Thou tellest me that there must be no doubt about my devotion; make me franker, more decided, more single-hearted. I notice how the ripe fruit brims over with luscious delight, and Thou tellest me that I must be full of mercy and goodness and gentleness and patience. I notice how the ripe fruit hangs its head, and Thou tellest me that I should be clothed with humility; teach me here, as well as there, to cast my crown before Thy throne. And I notice how the ripe fruit takes on the colour of the sun which ripens it, and Thou tellest me that I must grow up into the perfection of Christ; give me, my God, more of this Sunlight which never was on sea or land.

I would not altogether disappoint the heavenly Husbandman who deserves so well of me.