They finish their apples and get to the core, find the seeds tiny and black inside. Their eyes sparkle with visions of tall shade trees with bright red apples hanging low and sweet. They hardly have to discuss it. Rushing into the front yard in a blur of barefeet and tightly clenched hands, they scurry out to dig a hole in the grass. And cupping small hands around that hole, they watch as the black seeds fall into their shallow plot of earth.

They cover those seeds and kneel beside the womb in the ground, waiting. And they water that mound in the middle of the front yard, draw a picture of an apple, tape it to a number two pencil, and stake it in the ground. Here is where we poured our hope and where we’ll wait for it to grow. Every day they run to that spot, spill the water, stand vigil to their imagination. Faithful little servants to hope.

And so we are 5 years old and wanting our apple trees to give shade and fruit and we want it yesterday. We kneel at the altar of our desire to see change now, to move things along, to push open doors. We don’t want to wait. And so because we can’t see results, we decide it isn’t working.
Did my great grandfather Pop think those kinds of thoughts as he watched his son’s New York city career slip slow into the amber hands of the miller lite? Did he wonder if those short trips to Florida with his grandson, my dad, would ever make a difference in the scope of things? Did he worry about the future of his children’s children because how could a family brought up under the instruction of alcohol ever make anything of themselves? How we benefit from the faithful world changers of who came before us. They did not live to see the change, but we live because of it. Be faithful to plant. Release the growing to God.

Tomorrow is our last day of 31. I have so enjoyed talking about changing the world with you. If you would like to read the series from the beginning, all the posts are listed here. You may also get Chatting at the Sky delivered to your inbox for free.