I bought a lime tree!

Those of you who know my history with gardening know this was a huge leap of faith for me. But you also know I really love limes (and all they can produce– limeade, Key Lime Pie, Cilantro-Lime Shrimp and a new favorite discovered in India called “sweet lime drink,” among others).

There is a little intersection in Florida, called Tangerine, located near my parents’ home in Mt. Dora. Tangerine is apparently the citrus capital of the state–they grow all things citrus. Oh, and avocado trees too.

One day we were driving by, and I knew I had to adopt a tree. The sweet man who sold it to me knew I was a newbie. Did I get Persian or a Mexican Lime? Persian is what you find in the grocery store, he told me. Mexican is a key lime. Interesting.

“I’ll take a Persian, please.”

“Produces from September to December.”

Ahhh! So far away! I wanted instant gratification, but in the end, I was willing to wait so that I could have my own stash of those beautiful little green gems.

Nurturing this little tree feels like nurturing my own soul.

I want instant results. I want to read a book and suddenly experience joy. I want to understand parts of how God has made me and immediately feel fulfilled.

I want to see my little tree thrive. I want to see it be all it was made to be and bear fruit abundantly. Just as I want the very same thing for me.

But I have to wait. Only until September for my limes (hopefully!), but how long will I have to wait to experience fruit in my life?

To be honest, I can see the sprouts. I see the new little blooms beginning to show their faces. . . but they are so delicate. I feel they could wash away at any moment.

On my tree, the new leaves smell gloriously like lime, but they have to be watched carefully. There is a worm that likes to plant itself of those new leaves and suck away their life. I have to care for them every day and prune away any leaves a worm takes over.

Kind of like my heart. It needs to be nurtured every day. Every day I have to sit with the One who can really care for me. And I have to be vigilant against the tiny worms that can often work themselves in and cause destruction. I desperately want to see my little lime tree flourish. I am longing for its fruit. Just as I am desperate for the fruit in my life that shows I am again flourishing.