Our Own Fig Tree

Even Jesus cursed the fig tree.
And we have our own barren hours - fruitless and cursed for want of other things. In the seasons of our need we look upon empty trees and leave behind the withered hope of things that cannot be. It's not their time. No fault of trees and no curse will sway the seasons. Right now is the only moment offered. Fruitless - we plant seeds. Every thought is nurtured. Another season always follows. And time will bear the things we need. 


Peace,
Eric