Contemplating Figs

I’ve been thinking about figs a lot recently.  Well, one in particular. My fig. I don’t even know if I like figs, really.  I mean, sure, I like them when they’re made into a paste and spread on top of foamy little cake rolls and sold in little plastic trays in the grocery store.  But I’m thinking about figs, and I just can’t seem to stop.

And the sad thing is, I’ve got raisins in the pantry.

Now that you’re thoroughly confused – or thinking I’ve completely lost my mind – I suppose I should back up a bit.  When I attended my very first informational meeting for my trip to Uganda, our pastor reminded us to be prepared for God to test us…our commitment, our obedience, our willingness to follow.  He gave examples of things that might “come up” along the way that God would use to grow us in Him as we prepared to go.  I was excited.  I was ready.  I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but I was up for the challenge.

The part that went unsaid was that there’s another side to this story.  Yes, God may test us.  But we are going into a country that is engaged in powerful spiritual warfare.  Satan has a stronghold in Uganda, and he wants nothing more than to keep God’s people out and prevent God’s work from being done.  And to do that, he uses figs.

He’s done it before.  Right there in Genesis.  The whole serpent-in-the-garden scene with Eve and what we’ve commonly referred to as an “apple”.  Except it probably wasn’t an apple.  More than likely, it was a fig.  A juicy, ripe, delicious fig that he dangled before Eve and tickled her ear with promises of a better life if she would only take it…and eat.

And so we come back to my story.  You see, I’ve always known about figs.  They’re healthy and are rich in fiber, and can be used in all sorts of ways.  But to be honest, I’ve never really been interested in them.  The fig tree has always been there, in the garden, but frankly I’ve had no interest in going near it, or trying one of its fruits.  I’ve been content with the variety of other fruits on hand…especially those raisins in my pantry.  Because in the grand scheme of dried fruits, raisins are by far my favorite.

But several weeks ago, when I was preparing to send out my support letters, something inside me changed…and suddenly I noticed that fig tree.  I noticed its shape, its leaves, its scraggly branches.  And I noticed a fig that looked like it was made just for me, hanging from one of the low branches.  I noticed its color, its ripeness…and was intrigued.

So I spent some time sitting under that fig tree, taking a closer look at the fruit.  I know enough not to pick it.  I even know enough not to touch it, lest I be tempted to pick it and eat.  But I’d never been that close-up with a real live fig before and I was curious to learn about it: to see how its color changes as it ripens, to notice its shape as it grows and matures, to see the texture of its skin and the way that it hangs from the branch.

But life keeps moving and soon I found that I needed to leave the garden and the fig tree behind.  Yet, despite the busyness of life and the variety of fruit in my own kitchen, I found myself thinking about the fig.  Wondering what they taste like.  Do you eat them like an apple?  Or do you have to peel them, like an orange?  Looking through cookbooks for recipes – even though I know I’ll never make a single one of them.  And even though those thoughts were not necessarily wrong, I found that simply by dwelling on them, I was losing my appetite for other fruit, particularly those raisins.  Nothing else seemed appealing.  Nothing else sounded like it would taste good.  I didn’t really want to EAT the fig…but the curiosity was threatening to consume me.

So I confided in those who are closest to me.  Those I can trust.  Those that will hold me accountable and follow up.  Those that I know will commit to intercede on my behalf.  And I shared with them my struggle, that though this is not a battle of eating the fruit, it is a battle for my mind.  For my thoughts.  For my attention.  And God honored their prayers and gave me the ability to “place every thought into captivity”…for a time.

But the enemy is relentless.  And he began a different type of attack, a different way of thinking about figs.  I mean, what if suddenly the raisins in my pantry were gone?  Certainly then I could at least *try* a fig.  I would have been a good steward of what God had given me.   But the reality is, I have raisins.  And I *LIKE* raisins.  Raisins are good for me…and have many of the same health benefits as figs.  Do I really *NEED* to try the fig to be happy when I already have a canister full of raisins that I enjoy?

Of course, the answer is no.  But in my minds’ eye, I can still see that fig, swaying gently on the branch, tempting me with wondering thoughts.  And I know the battle is far from over.