Tag: Athens

Posted on

Seeking the Fruit on the Branches

Grove of orange trees with fruit on the ground and among the branches 
Psalm 119:17 (ESV)—Deal bountifully with your servant, that I may live and keep your word.

The oranges on the ground beneath the trees in the National Garden beckoned my stomach to growl. Saliva filled my mouth, an image of that morning’s orange pie stamping itself on my brain. I wondered out loud to my husband, “Do you think it’s okay to pick it up and eat it, or will I get in trouble?”

Why did I wonder this? Because we were strolling next to the Greek Parliament building and my mind conjured the fruit police swooping in. And, quite honestly, I thought it a waste to let the fruit sit on the ground and rot. Why let the ants devour it when the sweet citrus could fill my belly instead?

My stomach had the wrong idea, though. Why was I seeking the fruit on the ground when the tree still nourished the fruit hanging from the branches? The spiritual answer to this question comes from Psalm 119.

In this praise-filled poem, the anonymous writer extolled the transformative power of obeying God’s decrees when, post-exile, many of the people of Israel still sought the fruit on the ground (idols, for one) rather than the fruit in the tree (God’s promise of redemption and restoration).

Like the poet, we share a relationship with the Lord and become beneficiaries of his promises by putting his principles into practice. Our inheritance includes the benefit of his wisdom, which helps us understand why we’re obeying him.

Truly, seeking the fruit hanging from the branches fills us with the confidence to obey our kind, generous, and merciful God. Seeking him is as simple as turning to the Bible for guidance, asking the advice of a trusted fellow Christian, or praying—because God is waiting for us to open the page, ask the question, or make the request so he can answer.

Posted on

Crying Out to God

A dilapitated door with a hole in the middle that shows a dilapidated building 
Psalm 31:21-23 (ESV)—Blessed be the Lord, for he has wondrously shown his steadfast love to me when I was in a besieged city. I had said in my alarm, “I am cut off from your sight.” But you heard the voice of my pleas for mercy when I cried to you for help.

Her distress tolled like a battle cry in the airplane cabin. A few hours into a ten-hour flight from Chicago to Athens, the toddler sitting behind me bolted from her seat into the aisle, screaming, “I don’t want to go to bed; I want to walk around!” Though her parents sat her back down and tried to console her, she resisted bedtime with resounding cries and rambunctious seat kicks.

And she’s not alone in her feelings. In Psalm 31, David remembered feeling abandoned while in a “besieged city” and recounted his initial response: “I am cut off from your sight.” His fear assailed him like the despair a child felt when not sleeping in her own bedroom.

Thankfully, hopelessness and alarm do not have to rule over us. An honest, open relationship with God places us in the protection of his grace and mercy. We can pray to him and know he’ll hear and respond.

Because of this knowledge, we do not have to hunker down in fear of the besiege happening around us. Our alarm is not a signal to dive for cover; it is a sign to call out to God. Our prayer can be “I want to walk with you” rather than “I am cut off from your sight.”

Posted on

Laughing in the Rain

1 Peter 1:20–21 (ESV)—[Christ] was foreknown before the foundation of the world but was made manifest in the last times for the sake of you who through him are believers in God, who raised him from the dead and gave him glory, so that your faith and hope are in God.

I can personally attest, Athenian sidewalks enjoy tripping tourists. Marble pedestrian concourses laugh as sandal-wearing tourists pitch forward. Tile sidewalks buckle for the thrill of watching visitors stub their toes. Even better, cobbled walkways dole out laughter:

The rain began while my husband and I left the jazz club to search for gelato. We stepped with care, reaching the slightest decline in elevation. My husband slipped, arms flailing, but stayed upright. I laughed, of course, and slowed my pace…only to lose my foothold and land on my butt.

Like the sidewalks of Athens, God’s path includes trials that pitch us into harmful circumstances or cause us a world of pain. Peter’s message to “elect” followers of Jesus told much the same story, with an added bonus: faith has an inexplicable power to produce laughter in the rain.

Such a foothold of faith induces rejoicing that aids us in harmful circumstances. This allows God’s abundant peace and grace to flow through us, and through these he supports us.

Indeed, our faith in him allows us to stand even when we fall on our butts. In fact, when butts hit the ground, our response of laughing in the rain cements our faith and strengthens our hope in the living God.