It’s berry season! Despite it’s overgrown spread and lack of attention, our backyard raspberry bush is yielding some bumper crop this year. We have also been loving the organic blueberries that come via our local farmers markets in summer. We even tried some haskap berries via our basket of deliveries (Which I discovered aren’t really berries… but are still yummy!). Hands down, though, our family is big on the fat, juicy delights of strawberries! The youngest Mitton can down a bucketful in 10 seconds flat! I love mine with cream or in a smoothie with some banana. Mmmmnnn… nothing says summer in Canada more than berries!
A few weeks back, we went on our traditional “pick your own” strawberry expedition with grandma. We’ve been doing it for years. In fact, I can’t ever remember not having a freezer full of strawberries — which is actually ironic because my mother, bless her heart… does not like strawberries. 
We used to laugh as kids when mom would replace one frozen bucket with another one she had just picked, even though last year’s produce didn’t get eaten. You see… it’s tradition. Please… bear with me as I break out in song with Tevye in my rendition of the Fiddler on the Roof’s opening song…dai, dai, dai… okay, enough of that. Back to strawberries.
Now that I am a mature homemaker, devoted wife and mother, I have taken on the task of processing my own strawberries. Let me tell you… this is no easy task! This year we picked about 7 litres… enough for three batches of jam, two giant servings for eating and about 2 cups to put in the freezer for later (the tradition continues — except we eat ours). The whole process is a very full day’s work. This year the picking was hot and humid. We went to the farm early and had our baskets filled in about an hour or so. Then the real processing begins… washing and stemming the juicy morsels as the red, staining juice drips down my arms and everything turns slightly pink. I pop a couple super cute berries into my mouth to compensate for the mess. Then the waiting begins. I make “no cook” freezer jam (just follow the packet of your favourite brand) which means adding sugar, stirring, waiting, stirring, timing, waiting, stirring and finally pouring. Making three batches at a time is… well, time consuming. One year, I didn’t get the timing quite right and I ended up with strawberry syrup instead of jam. Which is just as yummy on ice cream as jam, so no worries. After all the chopping, stirring, waiting and drippy messes… the pretty red jars head off to the freezer to be pulled out again in December for decorating and gift giving. I think all the work is so worth it… and I hope our friends and family do to when they receive their jar come Christmastime!
All in all, the effort and toil brings joy and pleasure to others. I suppose this is why such things become traditions. My mom fills her freezer because it reminds her of her own mother. My kids visit the farm because it’s an activity they love to do with grandma. Our friends are beginning to expect a jar of strawberry jam at Christmastime. Perhaps your church has a strawberry social in the summer with loads of strawberry shortcake topped with fluffy whip cream. I have to agree with Tevye … traditions keep our balance. It allows us to have some sort of constant expectation. Often, it’s an enjoyable one that we look forward to… like strawberry freezer jam. Perhaps the hard work involved makes it even more special. And the beginnings of traditions… often unknown or lost through the years. Which begs the question… is a traditional way the only way?
I ask because traditions can also be taken for granted… we do something a certain way because we have always done it that way. Is it wrong? Not necessarily. God’s word is full of examples of traditional laws … many of which we still follow today. They are given to us by God and therefore I deem them worthy of consideration and practice in my faith walk. Many a saint has grown spiritually from using disciplines and routine. The caution must come when tradition overtakes our desires to grow with God vs. religious tradition. It’s about relationship not ritual. I am not one for change. Really. I like things when they stay the same… even when it comes to church. There is something to be said for tradition. It keeps us balanced. But I have learned that time does not wait for anyone. The ebb and flow of society forces us to move along and find new balances. Like Tevye, traditions will be challenged. We must learn and be constantly examining why we believe the things we do… is it biblical or simply a tradition? In thirty years will it be the same? Should it be? Does it need to be? This being said, God doesn’t change. He is our constant — kinda like the pectin in my strawberry jam. He’s the gel that should be the catalyst in our mix. As long as we add the right amount of sweetness, and allow for some time, a little chopping and stirring brings things back to a perfect consistency. A flawless gift we can give to our friends and family.
Will you examine your practices and traditions along with me? Do you simply do them the way you do for the sake of tradition? Is it good? Or do you have to examine your reasoning deeper? Are you just replacing another freezer burnt bucket of thoughts for the same ones? Becoming more Christlike is a journey, and we have to twist and turn and be pruned and challenged… only then will we produce the sweetest fruit worthy of passing on to others. It’s work, but it’s worth it.
The Mitton crew has just returned home from a lovely vacation in our summer dwelling. It truly was lovely. Except, that about two days in, I got sunburnt. It was my own fault, really, I did not re-apply the sunblock and could feel the crispy-ness attacking my legs… but was simply too lazy to head back in to shore from the rubber dingy I was lounging in. Consequence received, I spent the next few days slightly pinked and diligently re-applying the “after sun” aloe vera gel and searching for home remedies for sunburn. Then the youngest got a sliver in her foot after dancing around barefoot on the dock. Why is a sliver always the biggest disaster to a small child? Breathe. Dig out the blessed thing, slap a Band-Aide there, and move on. Sheesh. I soon discovered that it’s the little things in life that make up your days. Much to the delight of that same little girl, we also fed pistachios to a cheeky little black squirrel who was just brave enough to come near. We watched the sun go down over the lake and marvelled at the orange and pink glows that silhouetted the trees beyond us. We giggled under the covers as we read our book late into the night. None of these things were super adventurous. We didn’t save the world or climb a mountain. There were no great 
To be honest, if you are that new mom… you have no desire to be thankful for those blasted bits of cereal… I know, I been there, sister… but now that some time has passed, I can tell you…yup…it’s true… you are thankful for the Cheerios. Psychology tells us that there are benefits to gratitude, to counting our blessings and to recognizing that seeking joy makes us healthier. (Just so you know: it’s not psychology… it’s a God thing…)
There has been a tonne of articles showing up on my social media feeds about the environment lately. Have you seen this thing about banning plastic straws? Many environmentalists are looking to curb the use of plastics, with particular focus on the energy consuming, and very damaging, tiny plastic straw. The topic was supposedly listed for discussion among the G7 leaders this spring. Vancouver is set to ban all plastic straws, containers and foam cups by June of 2019 — the first Canadian city to do so. Apparently, even the Queen has “gone green” and banned plastic straws and bottles on all royal estates. It’s a hot topic and got me a thinkin’… what is our responsibility to the environment?
In fact, social science studies show that the far right christian worldview is much less concerned with the environment than the general public. Either because we want to stay away from “tree hugging new age philosophies” that worship all nature as “god”, or because we simply think that this world is all going to be gone anyway when Christ comes back so why worry about it? And so I muse… WHY?
mittonmusings 