As I look out at our small orchard of fig, cherry, apple, nectarine, and peach trees in our front yard, I can see the first buds of fruit forming. Each tree has a different process of maturation and fruit bearing.

The first appearance of a coming harvest is now taking shape, but it needs time to mature. God’s kind of harvest in each season also takes time. It cannot be rushed. We see this maturing process in Paul’s life.

As a Jewish follower of the Law, Paul was actively persecuting the Church. But unknown to him, he had a calling and assignment, only made visible in a blinding vision of Jesus on the road to Damascus.

Paul later wrote, “Even before I was born, God chose me and called me by his marvelous grace. Then it pleased him to reveal his Son to me so that I would proclaim the Good News about Jesus to the Gentiles” (Galatians 1: 15-16).

We, too, were chosen and called by God’s marvelous grace, even before we were born. Our calling is made known to us when we encounter His Son, Jesus. Our calling remains centered on Him and His heart and His ways. Our assignments always contain the essence of our mission: to partner with Him and represent Him to the world around us.

After his Damascus Road experience, Paul begins to realize his real purpose in life. He had a lot to unpack and unload, and he did not rush out to consult with anyone. Nor did he go up to Jerusalem to consult with those who were apostles. Instead, he went away into Arabia for three years, after which he returned to Jerusalem, met with Peter, and stayed with him for fifteen days (see vs. 16-18).

Intellectually, the process of maturing is easy enough to appreciate. For instance, my apple tree won’t bear fruit for a couple more years. My peach tree bore fruit in its second year, but it was miniature.

In much of 21st-century culture, with its industries and technologies, it has become a driven society, with “success” as the focus. Accomplishments define us. Instant gratification is our expectation. When those expectations are not met, we drive ourselves even harder, give up, or alternate between the two.

Now, the time involved in the process is more appealing to me. Without process, I might reach a goal, but I will not experience the true meaning and purpose of my life, nor encounter the wonder and mystery I was meant to live in.

I find myself drawn more to experiencing what it means to rest in what Jesus has already done. I cannot add anything, but I can partner with Him. My motto for life: “Work from rest. Rest to work.”

That process has taken years. Instead of anxiety, stress, compulsions, and comparisons driving my work, I find myself being drawn deeper into rest. I’m using more energy to work from a place of calling, peace, gratitude, and joy, each empowered by rest.

Like the roots of the trees, my pursuit of God has been deepening. Instead of focusing on tomorrow’s plans, I find myself living more in the present— in what is right in front of me. It can be a person I meet for the first time in a grocery check-out line, the checker, or on a forest hike with just Jesus and me, or someone I interact with on the trail. It can be the lunch I serve around a table of communion.

My attention and focus are drawn to Jesus pictured as a Tree of Life bearing fruit in every season—a harvest for the nations. His work is finished, and the fruits of His Spirit are produced only by Him. Only what He has done has significance and eternal value.