What My Toddlers’ High Standard of Grapes Taught Me About Myself

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Something to Be Said for the Scrutiny of Toddlers

I’m not sure who authorized my twin toddlers to be master food critics, but I probably should be proud of how well they’re functioning in this role. Nothing escapes their scrutiny without a severe critique, and they take this job very seriously, even if it‘s self-appointed, as I suspect.

The latest food under the microscope? Grapes.

We’re back into the “I-LOVE-Grapes!-Phase” after alternating between that and the “I-Don’t-Like-Them!-Phase” (which we’ve also gone through with strawberries, pears, peaches and apples). Most days, I’m not quite sure what they’re seeing to make them reject every grape that crosses their plates and toss it carelessly over their shoulders, but that’s what’s going down in our kitchen on a daily basis.

The latest episode of this happened after they begged for grapes while they watched Peppa Pig. I set down the plate and then ran to the basement to throw in a quick load of laundry. And when I came back…every grape in the bunch dotted my kitchen floor.

“Guys! What happened in here?  Why are there grapes all over the floor?”

“I don’t like them!”

Not being one to waste anything that costs over $3 lb., I crawled around on my grimy floor and picked up every last one. And inspected every last one. And for the record, I’m not above picking up food off the floor and eating it myself (after a quick rinse or wipe, of course – most times 😉).

And to be honest, I could see what they meant.

Some of the grapes were a bit lacking: squishy to touch, brownish to the eyes, and sour to taste.

They did have a point. These really weren’t the best-looking – or best-tasting grapes. I probably would’ve thrown them on the floor, too.

In Search of the Perfect Grapes

So, after that happened, I was on the hunt to find grapes that would pass their scrutiny. The other day at the grocery store, I hit the jackpot of grapes. The mother load.

Aren’t these beautiful?

They were all in one bunch, firm to touch, a shiny purpley vision of deliciousness. And they were the perfect round size, just right for toddler fingers.

And, best of all, they passed the toddler inspection, tasted as good as they looked, and the boys were back to shouting, “I LOVE grapes!” once again.

Exhale.

It’s the small things, isn’t it?

The Other Kind of Perfect Grapes

Seeing this big bunch of grapes got me thinking about the story in John 15  – the conversation Jesus had with His disciples at the Last Supper, His last night on this earth with His closest friends, just hours before He was arrested and later crucified.

Jesus begins speaking in John 13, and by the time He wraps up in John 17, He and his disciples have left the Last Supper in the heart of Jerusalem and are at the Kidron Valley. Jesus is likely walking while talking, and I’d bet good money that he crossed through a vineyard on their way out of the city and into the valley.

Somewhere mid-conversation, Jesus, like any stellar teacher who uses what’s handy for an object lesson, likely points out a bunch of grapes He sees along the way.  Probably like the beautiful ones I found in the store (definitely not the kind of grapes my boys where chucking on the floor). Among many other profound things Jesus shares in this discourse, He tells them this:

“I am the vine; you are the branches.

If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; 

apart from me you can do nothing.”

(John 15:5 NIV)

So, there’s the metaphor: Jesus is the Vine, we are the branches. What comes out of us and from us is the fruit. The grapes.

I know fruit can represent the productivity of our efforts and lives, and I think it does. The good results of all of our hard work for the Kingdom. But I also think that fruit here in John 15 connects to the Fruit of the Spirit in Galatians 5: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, self-control (Gal. 5:22-23).

I imagine Jesus pulling off a juicy, plump bunch of grapes from the vine – an object lesson to show them what fruit from their lives should look like:

Beautiful to behold

Just the right mix of firmness and softness

Sweet to anyone who tasted it

The Kind of Grapes Worth $3 lb.

So what kind of grapes would I be upon closer inspection, the kind of discriminating inspection my toddlers render?

Well, I’m pretty sure the patience grape would be the shriveled one that my boys threw on the floor. Love might taste a little better (to them, at least), and kindness is probably somewhere in the middle – one they would throw on the floor but one passable for someone like me, with lower standards, to eat.

The rest are up for grabs, depending on the day.

Not exactly a bunch worth over $3 lb.

But those grapes I found. I’ve honestly been obsessed with them. {I lead a very narrow existence these days}. Every time I opened the refrigerator to pull them out for the boys, I’d start fangirling again. They were just such a beautiful bunch of grapes. Ever since, every time I’m food-shopping, I’m wishing I could find a bunch like that.

Wouldn’t it be great if we were grapes like that – so delicious, so memorable, so appealing that others would choose those grapes over and over again?

I want to be that way.

I don’t want to be a passable, mediocre bunch of grapes.

I mean, who wants to be a shriveled bunch of grapes that even toddlers reject?

{They say the first step of change is admitting there’s a problem. So at least, there’s that.}

The Sort of Grapes We Really Are

In my Twitter feed this morning, I saw this from CS Lewis (well, not from him personally. From an account that tweets out his quotes. You get it.):

“What you see and hear depends a good deal on where you are standing:

it also depends on what sort of person you are.”

So much of life – how you experience, how you see it  – isn’t just dependent on your circumstances; it depends on the person you are. The kind of spiritual fruit you’re bearing to process those experiences.

Your kids are driving your crazy. Are you a patient person, like a grape that is sunny and bright in struggles? Or are you impatient, like a grape that’s gone brown?

Your husband was short with you. Are you a kind person, who speaks life rather than returns insults, like a sweet grape? Or are you harsh, like a sour, bitter-tasting grape?

You’ve gotten bad news from the doctor. Are you a peaceful person, standing strong like a firm grape? Or do you go soft and fold in on yourself with fear, like a shrively grape?

Whatever is going on in our lives, who we are underneath it all will be exposed. It will show what kind of fruit we’re really bearing.

And while my sons might be tough critics, there are probably many grapes from my life that should be tossed to the floor.

How to Bear Those Beautiful Grapes

I don’t have a green thumb of any sort, but I do know that if a vine is cut off from a branch, no matter how good the soil, no matter how much you water it, there will be no fruit.  A bunch of grapes can’t will itself to be beautiful tasty grapes if it’s cut off from the vine.

Same with us. Apart from the Source, we will only be shriveled grapes that toddlers throw on the floor.

Translation: No matter how hard you try to be better, how much you go to church, how many Christian friends you have, apart from staying personally connected to Jesus, you can’t and won’t bear fruit.

Apart from Him, we can do nothing – not the least of which is bearing beautiful, juicy, spiritual fruit.

That should be really good news to us. We don’t have to will ourselves to be loving, kind, patient or full of self-control.  We just need to attach ourselves to the Source, and little by little, through a spiritual photosynthesis, He’ll supply those nutrients and we’ll bear beautiful, tasty, toddler-approving grapes.

They Deserve Better Grapes

I’ve come to realize that just about every issue in my life comes down to this:  Will I stay close enough to Jesus to let Him be the Source of life for everything I want to come out of my life? The Source to make me the person I want to be, should be, and that my kids need me to be?

My kids don’t deserve shrively, bitter, brown grapes coming from their mom.  Literally or spiritually speaking.

They deserve better. My husband deserves better. Any person who’s making judgments about Jesus by observing me deserves better.

Our Only Job in Producing Grapes

Thankfully, I only have one job in this personality overall: stay attached to the Vine.

It’s one job – you’d think I could handle it. But I fail at this one way more than I’m comfortable admitting.

But here’s the good news in this, too: even when I can’t do my part (Remain in Me), He’ll always do His: (I’ll remain in you.) He’s faithful, even when we’re faithless, because He just can’t deny Who He is (2 Tim. 2:13).

He’s holding on tighter. He’s the source of even me remaining in Him.

Moms, we can do this. We can be the examples and role models our kids need us to be. But it won’t be us doing it. We just have one job – stay connected to the Vine.

We do that, and I guarantee, our lives will bear fruit that even my ridiculous toddlers would approve of.