The Significance of Fig Trees and a little Spiritual Growth

Oh, Friends! Dear, dear friends. Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears! That’s Shakespeare isn’t it? Wow, high school memory flooding back… where did that come from? Anyway, the point is, friends, we are back after a very long two week or so break. And I have no excuse for it. Well, I have an explanation, but it’s not a real excuse. Truth is, the last two weeks have been really crazy and weird at our house, and there simply wasn’t the time, motivation, opportunity, or the well-with-all to sit down for the few hours it takes to write. And I really don’t know where the time went. Work hours were odd, the family was here and there, the nights were spent doing other things… and well, here we are two weeks later! Yet, here we are. And so, I greet you again, as friends who give me a little writing grace now and then.

So. We had started our little “theme” with some plants and I’m back with another one. For some reason, the humble fig tree has been on my mind. I don’t think I have ever seen a fig tree in real life. Certainly not with figs growing on it. Wikipedia tells me it’s tropical, so likely why I’ve never seen one here in Canada. The snow here has FINALLY begun to melt and now we are in the throws of spring thaw… and flooding. Fig trees likely wouldn’t do very well in our yard… I hear they like dry soils. Therefore, I shall buy my dried figs at the supermarket. Dried because I don’t think I’ve ever had a fresh fig either.

Do you like figs? Apparently they are good for you: Raw figs are 79% water, 19% carbohydrates, 1% protein, and contain negligible fat. What’s the difference between a raw fig and a dried fig? Does raw mean fresh? What’s in a in a “fig newton” (gee, another blast from the past… do they still make fig newtons?). Or in shampoo? I think there’s figs in soap? Perhaps this is why fig trees were on my mind. They are interesting creatures. Slightly exotic, slightly humble, all ancient toga party. On the snack table of Queen Esther. Or at least in her soap.

Specifically though, I was thinking about when Jesus cursed the fig tree in Mark 11. It happened during Holy Week near Jerusalem… Jesus was hungry, notices a seemingly lush fig tree, discovers no actual figs, only leaves, and then curses it to never bear fruit again. Seems harsh, but here’s the lesson: Symbolically, we could say that Jesus was saying “You’ve put all kinds of energy into productivity, but you aren’t producing real fruit; the church is active… but useless.” Ouch. Two weeks of time, not one post. People are spiritually hungry and we do lots of community events, but are we feeding them what they need? Has the church done enough, have I, as a child of God, done enough? Have you? Remember, this is mitton musings.… I just think about things. I don’t judge, nor do I have all the answers. I simply present “food for thought”.

Yes, apparently they still make Fig Newton Cookies…now with other fruit flavours.

Which also had me thinking about the whole idea of cursing some poor tree. Cursing in general. The spiritual battle is real. I don’t want to say these last few weeks have been “cursed”, but certainly they have been oppressive. Another interesting fig tree fact? Fig tree sap/leaves contain a substance called Furocoumarins (5-methoxypsoralen), an enzyme that when exposed to UV rays, can cause skin irritation. Can we say that when spiritual opposition comes into the light… we get irritated? I dunno, that may be a stretch. Let’s just go back to saying Jesus wants us to bear fruit, not just be productive.

So. There ya have it. Fig tree. A Muse. I’ve posted. Short, but to the point I think. And I hope it gave you real food for thought, and not just another post to read. I’ll be back. Hopefully sooner this time. Enjoy your Holy week. Perhaps have some figs. Blessings.

Navigating Life’s Pathways: Lessons from a Spider

Greetings, friends! It’s been a hot moment, hasn’t it? We’re back though, with another thought of the day to enlighten you. I was finally taking a moment to relax in the bath, when a teenie little daddy long legged spider decided to meander its way along the side of my tub. Now, I don’t have any fear of spiders, especially one so small, but I didn’t want this little guy to fall into my bath, or worse, disappear from view, so I gently scooped him up and placed him along the edge of my dangling English ivy (which I am so proud of… it’s growing well on my bathroom window ledge…long and sprawling… I am hoping to weave it all through the mirror). Anyway, I placed the little guy along the edge of the vine, hoping he would follow the path into the heart of the plant and live happily eating the fruit flies or whatever little gnat things live in soils. He did not. He made a quick veer to the right, grasping at the smooth painted bathroom wall to start his ascent. Once he slipped and slid along the wall, he had to spot check a few pieces of web to swing over the window ledge. I didn’t watch him after that. I don’t know if he every made it to the plant, or the sunny window, or simply slid down the other side under the sink and whatever lurks under there.

Which pathway to choose?

And so… you guessed it… I mused about that little spider and wondered why on earth did he choose the more treacherous path when I clearly had shown him the easiest route? The quickest definition of a pathway is “a way that constitutes or serves as a path” — it says nothing of the difficulty of the pathway, nor the length of the route, nor the dangers along it. It is simply a “way” from point A to point B. Plenty of us have traveled along many a pathway — both easy and hard routes in our lifetimes. They are worth a thought and a look back to see how far we have come.

Most of you know, it has been a hard, long, cold, snowy winter here at Itsnotta Farm. The snow is still deep on the ground, the days are still bitterly cold, and my farm chores are tough. Gates are frozen open, two feet deep in snow. Entry ways to the barn are icy because when it did warm up for a few brief days, the snow melted. The barn is a skating rink. I need to clean out my stall bound bunnies, but everything is frozen to the ground. One day, the wind created huge drifts enroute to the coop, I was waste deep and shoveling my way along. I bump my head on the top of the chicken run because the snow has lifted me up a foot or so taller. Goat fencing can’t be started because the ground is solid and still buried. Needless to say, I think we are quite sick of it all! Spring could not come sooner.

Photo by Anurag Jamwal on Pexels.com

Metaphorically speaking, we’ve been on a few pathways since moving out here. Adjusting to the weather was just one. We’ve had new schools, church, made new friends in a new community. I’ve been given several job opportunities and navigated that trajectory for awhile. Life is a seemingly endless pathway. And then you die. My faith would tell me that that isn’t the final checkpoint, though. The Bible tells us the pathway to Heaven is narrow and tough going. It’s a hard one to choose. Like my little spider, the challenges are real and sluggish. Choices we make now, will determine our fate. Is it worth the slow, arduous route to arrive in Heaven and eternal life? You bet it is!

I don’t know where you are, friend, on your pathway through life. I don’t know who reads my little public posts, or who shares them and why. I do know, God is faithful. He’s proven it time and time again. People around us try and set us on the path that is easy… one with few obstacles, an easy climb through the ivy. Sometimes, the sacrifice is worth the harder route. Sometimes, we need to plant ourselves and haul up over the ledge. It’ll be a bit more difficult for sure. Oh, we’ll have a few blessings along the way… someone will surely scoop us up every now and then and keep us from drowning; but it will all be worth it in the end. Trust me. Spring thaw is coming, and the pathways will soon be green again! And there will be plenty more spiders to watch.

New Year Reflections: The Year of Being Gracious

Well, Well, Well. 2026 Has certainly started off with a bang. I am already late for the first post of the year, and we are working on our 3rd snow day in a row off school and there is not a cloud in the sky. My chickens have not left the coop in weeks. They hate the snow. The rabbits and rats need cleaning. We have been hosting most of the holidays, and although we maintained throughout the season, for some reason our house fell apart in the last few days. There are empty boxes and doo dads and whatzits galore. Clean up has started, but it’s going to take a hot second.

Somehow, my #wordoftheyear seems grossly appropriate in light of the first week of January. We’ve had some strong feelings circulating around — things just seemed so “heavy” for a few family members. Let’s back track for a minute, though. Last year, 2025 was the year of “growth”. I failed again. I think. I couldn’t even remember what my word was… had to look it up. Our garden failed again. We made it through some milestones, but did we grow? I’m not sure. Realistically, I’m sure we did… but in a way that we focused on and purposed? Who knows anymore. So, it’s time for a new start.

Which brings us around to this year. 2026. I have reached the stage in my life where I am old enough to no longer be cool, yet old enough to not care if I am. We are grandparents. We are now “grandma’s house” where you go to visit rather than live. We will likely be empty nesters this year, as the youngest goes off to post secondary education. We are seeking to step aside a little and let the next generation begin to shine. I’m not as tech savvy as I used to be. I can’t keep up like I used to. My eyes are a little weaker and I am moving a little slower. Things are quieter. And that’s okay.

I have discovered that the next generation is so in tune with their mental health… and yet are struggling still. There is a fragility among them. And I am not sure if it is a good or a bad thing. I’ve noticed that, especially since Covid years, people are more apt to say “no”. Rules of etiquette are wavering in the light of self preservation. Again, I can’t decide if this is good or bad. I’m caught in the world between “tsk tsking” the worship leader for wearing his baseball cap up front, and smiling at the little kid dancing down the aisles during candlelight service. I’m struggling to be kind at the grocery store to the young cashier, and fighting with online services who don’t have real people to call when there is a mix up — and there is always a mix up!

They are coming…don’t you worry!

In a world of A.I. and Amazon, I’m stuck with only a few tabs open — where others can flit between screens faster than I can Google how. I’m struggling, too, in the sandwich generation of keeping the peace. Although I see that according to the internet… I am even too old for that definition! And yes, I still use three dots to declare a break in thought! Yet, it’s not all doom and gloom. We’re not dead yet! We are going to try the garden — again. The spring chick orders have just come out… and you know I’ve looked at it! We are figuring out if we want to add goats and meat birds to Itsnotta farm. There are still pallets sitting in my (albeit snow covered) driveway. I want to learn how to refinish furniture this year. I need to clean and purge. I need to start doing Yoga again. Thirty years of marriage in 2026! That deserves a getaway, doesn’t it?

The grandbabies will come to the house and make us smile at all their new discoveries. We’ll have to ask for help now for things. We might do less while still doing more. Most of all, we will have to learn to be kind. Not to be stick-in-the-muds. To still try. To do it with wisdom, instead of narrow mindedness. To try and understand where the young moms are at in this fast paced society of constant change. Where the men who don’t know how to be men are at when the world is giving them conflicting views. Where the generation who has had everything handed to them still don’t know how to “adult”. And do it with a whole lot of grace. Originally, that was my word: grace. Although, with a bit of time, it’s merged from grace to gracious. That’s what I need to be in 2026. I love the internet’s overview:

“Gracious” means kind,courteous,and pleasant,showing politeness and good manners, often extending to others in a generous way, like a gracious host or a gracious acceptance of a compliment;

It can also describe a life of comfort and elegance (“gracious living”) *YES* or be used as an old-fashioned exclamation of surprise (e.g., “Good gracious!”).

Essentially, it implies charm, generosity of spirit, and thoughtful consideration, especially towards those in a lower position or in difficult situations.

Key Meanings:

  • Kind & Courteous: Friendly, polite, and showing good manners, even in tough spots.
  • Elegant & Comfortable: Suggests a lifestyle of luxury, ease, and good taste (e.g., “a gracious home”). *GOALS*
  • Merciful & Benevolent: Showing compassion or favour, often used for divine beings (“our gracious King”).
  • Exclamation: “Good gracious!” expresses surprise or mild shock.

So, there ya have it. 2026’s # wordoftheyear is “Gracious”… with the goal of embodying all of the above! Will you keep me accountable? Will you comment when posts come out that are not so gracious?! Focus. Focus. For now, though, I have to clean up my house! (lifestyle of luxury and ease, remember?) And hope that the family will be a little gracious to me for letting it get this way! Happy New Year, beloveds! See you soon…