I reckon the only time I’ve ever sampled honeydew melon has been when I’ve had it in a fruit medley of some sort or another when I’ve eaten at a breakfast buffet. Usually at a hotel where I’m staying for a conference… At least, that’s the only memory I have. Cantaloupes or muskmelons is a different matter. I’ve had a few of those fresh and ripe from some West Kentucky farmer’s field or garden back in the day. Usually, they even knew about it! Wink, wink.

The flesh of those were sweet and soft and ripe and fragrant. Juicy, too. Unlike the chunks of honeydew in the breakfast buffet which were usually hard and green and basically flavorless. Randa’s experience having been pretty similar to mine, she wondered out loud why I’d brought home two honeydew melon plants to add to the corn, peppers, and tomatoes in the garden. “Because they didn’t have any cantaloupe,” I explained, which I guess isn’t really much of an explanation.

Regardless of reason, the vines grew like weeds and spread like online rumors. They’ve pretty much taken over the whole south end of the garden, stretching out underneath the horse trailer and tumbling over the railroad tie borders and meandering out into the driveway. After trying to edumacate myself on the internet in regard to perceived honeydew melon ripeness, I picked the first one about a month ago. In spite of my google mentor’s guidance, it was hard and green and basically flavorless.

The next one I picked two weeks after that was semi-hard, somewhat green, and yes, basically flavorless. In a small fit of angry disappointment, I considered ripping up all the vines and dragging them over to the gully. But then I remembered a couple of things: 1) maybe they just needed more time to ripen and 2) we don’t have a gully.

So, another two weeks goes by, and I get the nerve to try again. Well, whaddyaknow!! This one actually cut fairly easily, had a hint of flavor, and even tasted a bit sweet. We sliced it up and stored it in the fridge for several days. What a pleasant surprise when we tried a slice. It was wonderful. And, believe it or not, actually smelled like a melon!

I guess anybody who’s ever had a tree-ripened peach or a vine-ripened tomato knows well and keenly appreciates the difference between fruit picked for shipping and fruit picked for eating. Or for show. There’s just no way to rush the process and still get the full goodness that nature is willing to put in if we’ll just show a bit of patience.

I think there’s a bit of that, too, in our bearing the fruit of the Spirit. It takes time, maturing, and the natural process of power that is beyond us. We can draw up all the water and nutrients that we want, but it is yielding to God’s own hand that produces what he has intended within us. In view of that, perhaps we ought to be a bit more patient with ourselves… and with others.