When we got home from vacation, there was a perfect tomato sitting on the counter – the first tomato from my plant. I ate it yesterday for lunch. It was delicious! As I bit into it, reflecting on its perfection, I had to be honest with myself. This really wasn’t the fruit of MY labor.
A dear friend provided the plants, the soil, the containers, the food, and the knowledge to grow these tomatoes. God provided the sunshine, and the rain. All I did was water it and feed it, and another friend took over that job for me when I was gone. I didn’t even pick the tomato; this same friend was the one who pulled it from the vine. (She also fed my babies while we were gone.) She doesn’t even like tomatoes – so it was there sitting on my counter – just waiting for me to enjoy it. What a blessing that I get to enjoy something that so many other people have a part in. (OK, the grammar on that sentence is horrible, but the feeling is genuine.)
So many people have had a part in this journey following bariatric surgery, as well. There are cheerleaders, people who have given me clothes, people who gave me pep talks when I was discouraged over the plateaus and people who have prayed me through this every step of the way.
In fact, there is very little in my life that I can say I have accomplished all by myself – there are always people there – doing their part to help.
“I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God has been making it grow. So neither the one who plants nor the one who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow. The one who plants and the one who waters have one purpose, and they will each be rewarded according to their own labor. For we are co-workers in God’s service; you are God’s field, God’s building.” (I Corinthians 3:6-8, NIV)
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