A Story of a Starfruit Tree

The starfruit tree across the street was in full bloom. The branches literally bending from the weight of the amount of fruit. The owner of the tree was not interested in picking the fruit, so the neighborhood kids picked its fruit. I would see and hear the kids from my kitchen window. The smallest one would disappear into the tree while the older kids gather the starfruit that fell. Now, maybe I was going through some culture shock/general grouchiness with the amount of transition I was/am/and continue to go through, but one day I watched the kids climb on top of the neighbor's fence. Looking back this came from a genuine place of concern- pick the fruit but don't climb on the fence. 

So I yelled," Get down! Don't climb on the fence!" 

The kids froze, probably wondering where this strange voice was coming from yelling in terrible Indonesian. 

They returned later that afternoon. 

I just watched from my window (I can completely relate to Jimmy Stewart in Rear Window) and the kids scrambled up the tree, on to the fence and on to the roof of my neighbor's house! I got some advice from my Indonesian friend. Pick all the fruit, don't climb on the fence, and for sure don't climb on the roof! Who is responsible if you fall and break something? ME!? Me and my 2 kids?! So I brought my cell phone outside with the message from my friend written in Indonesian. I tried to read the message to them but not look at the phone... they filled in the word for "responsibility", so I know they knew what I was talking about. The kids left, and about that time my new neighbor came home from work. 

I began to tell him how for several days the kids have been climbing the tree, climbing on his fence, and today climbed on his roof. He said," Ibu, this is God's tree so it's okay for the kids to have the fruit." I replied," Yes! I agree! Please, let them have all the fruit. I just don't want anyone to get hurt trying to get the fruit." 

The next evening before dinner we hear WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! 

I peek out the window...

to see the neighbors chopping off the top of the starfruit tree.

My heart sinks- this is not what I had in mind!

 Branches and starfruit cover the street.  Now no one gets the fruit, but no one can get hurt. We were already going on a little walk, so we took a detour to tell all the kids to run and collect the fruit that had fallen. We came back to see a semi-circle gathered around the tree and no one collecting the fruit. So I stepped in and handed the fruit to the kids. I'm sure everyone was confused, because I felt like I was the reason the tree was chopped down... maybe everyone else felt that way too. 

It was such a shock the way the "issue" of the tree was dealt with. For some reason it made an impact on me. I see this tree every day looking out all windows of my house. The top of the tree was chopped off, and it looked dead. God watered the tree. The tree grew and the buds of starfruit can be seen. 

The starfruit tree today

New fruit fell today!

It may sound strange but this tree is a symbol of my time living overseas- specifically over the past nine months. Often times it feels like we're starting over when we leave or return, like the top of our tree has been cut off. But God in His love and mercy waters the tree whether it deserves the drink or not. The tree survives the elements, once again only through grace, and eventually bears fruit. It's hard to leave or return (I'm reminded of that every month of May when friends and colleagues say good-bye) but God gives grace. His grace is shown in friendships that pick up where you left off. It's shown in forging new relationships with people who are walking along the same life path as you. It's shown in seeing my kids fall into routine here and thrive in making their own friendships with those around them. His grace is seen when Kate tries to use Indonesian even though she only says a string of random words like "Ibu Sambal Delapan" (Mrs. Hot Sauce Eight). His grace is seen at dinner time when my kids beg for more bananas, papaya or nangka or more soy sauce on their white rice. 

His grace is what makes me feel a level of comfort living here.

His grace makes way for the fruit.