Bloom Where You're Planted | Previous Challenge Entry

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TITLE: Bloom Where You're Planted | Previous Challenge Entry
By Lauren Schamaun
12/12/05
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The tree was just a bonus. Though its vivid green leaves stood in stark contrast to the drab concrete fencing, it hadn’t caught our attention when we looked at the house. It was so humble and unassuming that we didn’t even realize that we had a citrus tree until after we moved in. Once we “discovered” it, the tree didn’t take up very much of our time. On occasion, we’d look out from the kitchen window wondering if we’d get any edible fruit from our little tree. And once, when our dog developed a severe flatulence problem we hypothesized that he may have been eating from it. But for the most part, our thoughts of it were fleeting.

That all changed one day in early December, when the little tree boldly declared its presence with an overwhelmingly large crop of oranges. As I attempted to count the fruit littering my kitchen counters, I was struck with amazement at what our tree had done.

We had hardly paid the tree any mind. Unlike the sparkling swimming pool, it was not a feature that we’d showcase on tours of our new home. We didn’t pine away the hours until our lips would get to partake of its sweet juice. We hadn’t even stopped the dogs from peeing on the poor tree. I think it may have been watered, albeit accidentally, by the sprinklers carefully programmed to produce lush grass, but we most certainly hadn’t cared for it.

Not only that, but the tree did not decide to take up residence in our backyard. The builders, landscapers or previous owners sentenced this tree to a life imprisoned by a concrete block fence. The tree had no control over where it was planted and yet there I was studying my Betty Crocker cookbook for creative ways to use all of its oranges.

Then it hit me. I don’t know why I was so surprised. God wasn’t surprised by the tree’s crop. It’s an ORANGE tree. God expects it to produce ORANGES. Whether planted in a sprawling orchard in Florida or some ungrateful family’s backyard in Arizona, when God looks at an orange tree at harvest time, he expects to find fruit.

His expectations of me are not any different. I need to blossom and bear fruit. At times, I beg God to uproot me and plant me somewhere different: where life is easier, where I’ll feel better physically, where I can have more fun, where my life can have more impact. What I fail to acknowledge is that for reasons far beyond my understanding, God has very deliberately planted me right here right now. I may not like where I’m planted, but I need to stop fussing about whether I’m in an orchard or next to a concrete fence and get about the business of blooming. Because when God comes looking, I want him to find fruit.

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