I have dwarves on my lawn. Three of them, and they’re all from the same family. One of them was born in Wright County, MN, while the other two (believe it or not) are grandchildren of the Duchess of Oldenburg. They came up on a truck from Missouri shortly after we moved in 10 years ago, and they’ve been living in my yard ever since. Not to be confused with the average, lifeless garden gnome either, mine are alive & real and full of fruit. And, as of late, they’re making me nervous.   

Malus Pumila from the Rosaceae family, otherwise known as “Honeycrisp”, the three apple trees in my backyard are of what’s called a “dwarf” variety. Topping out at 8-10 feet tall, these dwarves will never grow to be as large as some of their relatives within the greater Rosaceae family, but they’re perfectly suited to occupy a small yard like mine (which they do, and have, for many years now). They may be small, but they’ve weathered many storms and survived some of the coldest winters on record. They came in the mail no bigger than twigs, but they’ve long since grown into strong young trees, eager to provide my family with applesauce and pie. These are no ordinary dwarves. The Duchess of Oldenburg would be proud.

Slow Growing

As strong as they are, and as proud as the Duchess may be, these dwarf trees haven’t yet reached their full potential. Over the duration of their life in my yard, I’ve seen very little fruit. One of them just last year yielded its first (and only) apple, while another had yet to produce even a single blossom. It almost goes without saying that I haven’t been eating a lot of pie in recent years. However, I hadn’t necessarily been expecting a whole lot of fruit from them either. I know that it takes time for a fruit tree to mature, and I’ve been willing to wait. My dwarves haven’t disappointed me in the least. On the contrary, I am delighted to have them in my yard…apples or not. 

In fact, at the start of prior seasons I remember pinching blossoms off of my trees in order to give the branches time to grow & thicken. Apples get heavy, and producing fruit too soon can break the limbs and prove counterproductive. Dwarf trees are known for doing this, and I didn’t want that to happen with mine. Better to make sure the tree is strong enough to handle the fruit it produces, rather than producing fruit as fast as possible to the detriment of the tree. I’m not hoping for apples this year only. I’m after fruit that lasts season after season.

Full of Potential

Well, this year has proven to be different from the rest. In mid-June all three trees were so filled with white apple blossoms, it looked like it had snowed on them. Pinching them off would’ve taken a month, so I figured that it was time to let my little dwarves do what they were always meant to do: Make fruit.

It wasn’t long before their blossoms gave way to tiny green apples. Those apples went from tiny to small, then from small to medium, and by mid-summer they had become substantial in both size and weight. The Thomson’s and the Rosaceae’s alike had been waiting a long time for this. It was exciting for all of us.  

It’s now late summer, and my trees have had a year like none before. They are liberally decorated with the finest fruit they have ever produced. The apples they hold are healthy & beautiful, absolutely delicious, and simply too many to count. And with the end of the growing season still several weeks away, they’re bound to grow even larger, juicier, and, of course, heavier. And that is the cause of my recent concern.

“Producing fruit too soon can break the limbs”

The fruit I’ve so patiently waited for has now become the very thing that’s making me nervous. The branches are still relatively thin, and bowing like wooden rainbows with the weight of the apples. Can they handle it? Will they break? Is it possible for a tree be ruined by its own fruit?  

Self-Destruction

The three trees in my yard make me wonder if we sometimes underestimate the value and importance of a fruitless season in our spiritual life. It’s a good thing I barred them from bearing too much fruit in years past, they can hardly carry the weight of the apples they’ve got now! Those dwarves, just like us, need to recognize spiritual maturity as being equally critical to the ongoing success of our ministry as the fruit we covet.

We’re so easily discouraged when the growth of our church stagnates for too long, or when our efforts to reach the lost fail to produce immediate results. But how can we be sure that periods of barrenness aren’t by God’s design? What if slow growth and scant success is God’s way of keeping us from destroying ourselves? Just because we can’t see any fruit doesn’t mean that the tree has died. It’s more likely an indication that its best years are still to come.

Conversely, even when a ministry seems to be producing volumes, it’s still susceptible to breakage. Some churches have been known to do that, and I don’t want it to happen to mine. I’ve looked over the fence into neighboring orchards that were far more prolific than ours, and what I’ve seen isn’t always a pretty sight. I’ve seen ministries that grew up so quickly and produced fruit so fast that the ministry itself crumbled under the weight of it. It came and went like a boom town, and all that’s left to show for it now are a few scattered apple cores. Overnight success is sometimes the worst thing that could happen to an organization. Let’s be careful what we wish for, and content with what we have.  

Small but Strong

Our church is what many would consider a “dwarf” variety. We’re one of the small ones. We’ll never get too big, and we don’t grow very fast, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t capable of producing fruit. Indeed, producing fruit is what we are meant to do, and I believe that we already are in some measure. We’re certainly not dead. However, if our sole focus is on the production of spiritual fruit, we might be in big trouble. If the branch itself doesn’t have enough integrity, the weight of the fruit is going to destroy us.   

“Is it possible for a tree to be ruined by its own fruit?”

Being a relatively young church, we might feel discouraged when we look back across our own branches and see so few apples dangling from them. It’s easy to get frustrated at how long it can take for a ministry to gain some traction. But I can assure you, God is not disappointed in what He’s getting from our little fellowship. The last decade might feel like a long time to us, but God’s in no hurry for gobs of fruit. Not like we are anyway. If anybody’s getting impatient, it’s us.

If God would’ve allowed us to produce the all the fruit we’ve ever wanted, especially early on, we’d be broken to bits by now (it certainly wouldn’t have been the first time fruit got somebody in trouble with God). But He didn’t let that happen to us, with good reason. He’s spent the last 10 years keeping us safe from ourselves and making us stronger in the meantime, preparing us for what’s to come. And I believe that He is pleased with the growth He sees, and that our best years are still to come. We owe God our sincere thanks for pinching off our blossoms in times past.

Branches Full of Blossoms

With the startup of campus ministry upon us, and a new year looming just ahead, the JFB community is entering into an exciting new season of ministry with a lot of potential. We have high hopes. We see branches full of blossoms, and like every year, we’re starting to ask the same questions: “Will it work? Is this the year? Will we finally bear a substantial amount of fruit?” But these are the wrong questions to be asking. Rather than concerning ourselves with whether we’ll produce fruit or not, we ought to be concerned with whether we could handle it if we did. 

This might be the year. But are we ready? Maybe we’re ready, maybe we’re not. Perhaps we’ll enter into a season of great fruitfulness. But can we handle it? Maybe so, but it’s equally possible that the Lord’s decided we need another year to thicken. Either way we’re in good hands. God knows exactly what we need to survive the cruelest of seasons and weather the worst of storms. We’ve been through plenty of it already, and we’re still alive. If we don’t see fruit today, we will tomorrow…Jesus promised, “I appointed you to go and produce lasting fruit”.

Keep Going, Keep Growing

whether it’s a fruitful year for us or another barren one, progress is being made here. The future looks good for us, and the Lord is pleased with us and our dwarf church.

As far as the Rosaceae family is concerned, I might need to go and rescue them from doing permanent damage to themselves. It’s been raining all day, and they’re drooping like crazy. Looks like the Thomson’s will be having pie pretty soon.