The tomatoes at the local distributor were looking good. Everyone had waited for the right time. The taste and texture would be at their maximum. I knew it required patience. I also knew that there would be imperfections. With a gentle wash, the tomatoes would bring the care of the farmer and the blessings of nature to the table. Each was almost there. The finish line was within sight. Anticipation was appropriate. Excitement was inevitable.
Almost is a great word. Ambiguous, alluring, and somewhat undefined. The dish is almost there. We are almost home. I am almost ready. When spoken with certainty, fear and doubt often go into hiding.
Certainty comes with trust and faith. I am certain the sun will rise this morning, even if I do not see it because of the clouds. My certainty is built on experience, a repeating pattern of outcomes. I can be sure of my friends, even when they are not at their best, because of trust and faith. I hesitate to use the word almost for the simple reason that I accept them as they are. We are on a journey to be better individuals. We are almost there, even when the rest of the journey will take a lifetime.
Patience is required in every aspect of human living. I like to think of others’ patience with me as compassionate waiting for my true self to become a reality. I know it is hard at times. Expectations can be high. I also understand that each instance of patience is a Divine gift. I find the gifts of others pointing me to Divinity, her embrace, and her example of loving unconditionally. I also think of the example of the time it took for the colours to be revealed as Divinity “waited for his enemies to cave in.” (Hebrews 10.13)
With each almost, an end will come. With these tomatoes, it will be a time to enjoy. With Divinity work within, the journey continues in the day ahead. There is still more work to be done and steps to take.
