A Berry Good Deal

A special sale on seasonal fruit reminded Lara Patangan about the radical abundance and generosity of God, and the blessings of summer.

Stacked on the kitchen counter were 10 pints of blackberries lined up like suspects in a criminal investigation. My husband wanted to know why I'd bought so many berries when we already had berries in the refrigerator. I nonchalantly told him they were on sale, and they made me happy.  

I was conditioned from an early age not to buy anything unless it was on sale. If it was on sale, it didn’t matter if you needed it because it was a deal, and well, a deal’s a deal.  

A deal's a deal

I remember once visiting my grandmother, who was a regular on the garage sale circuit — and finding a used Rolodex complete with strangers' addresses and telephone numbers on her dining room table. Incredulous, I asked her what on earth she was going to do with a used Rolodex. She just giggled as if I was being silly, because clearly the 10-cent price tag made it a can’t-be-passed-up bargain. (For younger readers, a Rolodex is where people used to keep contact information for friends, businesses, and such before everything went electronic and people quit speaking to one another in person. It’s not to be confused with a Rolex, which is a fancy Swiss watch that people who frequent garage sales don’t typically wear.) 

I didn’t buy the berries just because they were on sale. I bought them because they remind me of summer. Of times riding with Granny to my uncle’s house in the country and filling milk jugs worth of berries in the summer heat. There was a plethora growing wild on their thorny vines, and each one felt like a plump treasure. Granny had an internal navigational system for finding blackberries and uncannily knew which random spots to pull over on canopied tree-lined roads where everything looked identical.  

Back at her house, I would watch TV and eat blackberries until I’m certain my organs were as purple as my teeth. It felt decadent and lazy. The simple abundance was the quintessential summer satisfaction. 

Abundance isn't seasonal

Whether it’s walking on the beach, floating in the pool, reading a book under a heap of covers with the air-conditioner turned low, planting a garden, biting into a juicy Georgia peach, or arranging freshly-cut hydrangeas in a vase, summer isn’t just a respite from routine. It’s a chance to notice that abundance isn’t seasonal. It surrounds us in the simplest things — a smile from a stranger, a hug from your child, the warmth of a cat and the raucous affection of an eager dog.

It’s in a memory from someone you grieve, and alive in the bubbles of laughter that rise among friends. It’s in our relationship with God whose love pours out like a flood of summer rain on parched grass. It’s everywhere and always in a world that feels lacking and sometimes lackluster, conditional, and inequitable.

I like to think of abundance as just sitting with God and knowing that I’m enough for him despite all my lack and limitations. It’s so counter to the world’s messages of scarcity and success. God’s abundance is radical in comparison —its simplicity remarkably satisfying.  

It’s easy to focus on what we don’t have: what attributes or skills we lack, all the things we don’t know, everyone who make us feel like we aren’t enough that we forget how unconditionally and abundantly God loves us. All of life’s wanting is wearisome, and summer is the perfect time to pay attention to the hammock of blessings that offer us rest and satisfaction — no matter the season. If buying some blackberries on sale can remind me of all that, I would say that’s a pretty good deal.   

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Copyright 2024 Lara Patangan
Images: Canva