During this weekend’s snowstorm, I was rooting through the freezer checking out the food available in case we were stranded for a very long time. I had already stocked up on staples and movies in case the meteorologists were off and we would get a very extended  Snow Day.  I love the challenge of seeing what we could survive on if we’d need to.

Among the frozen pizzas and Weight Watcher’s meals, my eyes fell upon the fruit -literally- of my summer labor. I had spent the early part of the summer picking strawberries, raspberries and blueberries and freezing them for winter pies and jams…….but mostly memories.This summer  as I squatted in the farm fields filling box after box with the sweet, vibrant fruit, I knew a day like Saturday would come…a day when the tartness of blueberries would catapult me back to the rich knowledge I gained while staining my fingers red and blue.

You see, this summer I was on a renewal leave, taking a break to recharge my spiritual life. At first when I began my obsessive "picking", I thought it was about the fruit. But I soon realized that my gathering was about so much more. It was about returning to the Source of my food and my life.  As I sat in the rows, nestled in the warm soil of summer, I began to get in touch again with the Source of not only my food but my creativity,my connection with the Earth and my soul. As I filled bucket and box, I was also filled with the abundance-and simplicity- of God. Instead of relying on all the outward sources of supposed meaning and fulfillment, I was returning to the movement of the Divine that exists in the simple act of gathering food,preparing it and saving some for the time when it will be most welcomed.

Yesterday, we read of Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness when he was challenged to rely on all the outward sources of power, prestige and religion-all the world could offer to fill his hunger.  But Jesus was not tricked by what was easy but not lasting. Jesus was interested  in returning to his connection with his Source to comfort and ultimately save him.

It’s funny, I never ever thought that in these days of Lent, the blueberries picked on a hot, July day in the dusty field with bees flying about me, would remind me to return to my Source. But with the memory of blue stains on my fingers and the fresh, tart taste on my tongue, I am filled with gratitude.