Today’s Reading is James 5:7.
“Be patient, therefore, brothers, until the Lord’s coming. See how the farmer waits for the precious fruit of the soil, being patient about it, until it receives the early and latter rains.”
Some memories carry the sweetness of summer watermelons. Mine goes back more than fifty years to my granddaddy’s patch—an acre of melons that taught me about patience.
Every spring, Granddaddy would plant those tiny black seeds with the confidence of a man who understood seasons. I’d watch, wide-eyed, as little green nubs appeared, then small melons, then—after what felt like forever to a boy—prize-winning watermelons ready for harvest.
Those were golden days. Days I longed to recreate.
But here’s my confession: I never really planted my own watermelon patch. Why? Because patience wasn’t my strong suit.
If I could have planted on Monday and harvested on Tuesday, I’d have been a watermelon farmer for life. But watermelons don’t work that way. Neither does life. Perhaps you know this struggle. The piano lessons you abandoned. The language you never mastered. The dream you shelved because the wait seemed too long.
James knew something about waiting. He watched farmers trust the rhythm of seasons, planting in faith, watering in hope, harvesting in joy. They understood what we often forget: the best things grow slowly.
God operates on farmer time, not microwave time. His promises ripen in due season. His plans unfold according to His perfect calendar, not ours.
The farmer doesn’t fret over the timeline. He simply tends his field and trusts the process.
So should we.
I’m Lonnie Davis, and these are thoughts worth thinking.