the parable of the apple tree

once upon a time, there was an apple tree in a great orchard.

it loved the beautiful red apples which graced its branches.

they were all different-- some were small, some were big, some speckled with apple freckles, and some matte in radiant day.  

one summer's day, one apple's eye caught sight of the shiny splendor of another. 
he exclaimed, 

"hot momma! you're the finest apple i ever did see!" 

(in a southern accent, because that makes talking apple more plausible and memorable)

and this shiny splendid apple blushed and twirled on her branch in pride.

and then a curious thing occurred...

the eyes of all the apples-- the big and the small, the freckled and matte--

darted to this one shiny splendid apple.

and oh, how they wanted to be shiny and red, free of apple freckles. 

so, they swayed to the mall and purchased gallons of apple-shine-perfecting-polish. they lathered it on, day after day, until their shine nearly matched this one shiny splendid apple.  in their efforts to hide apple freckles and exchange shape for the perfect apple figure, nourishment was leeched; their core began to wilt, falling prey to worms and decay. 

fall blew away their friendly leaves, and soon the apples fell, one by one, to the soft and chilled ground. 

snowflakes blanketed them into sleep. when the sun thawed the earth that next spring, the beautiful, lustrous, red apple skin had vanished. 

all that existed were the rotted remains. 

the end

{kidding!}

but look, the little seeds survived! 

burrowing into the ground, they gained nourishment from the residue of apple core.  the seeds that burrowed hard and burrowed deep were granted roots, granted a future of magnificent beyond any shiny-red-apple splendor.  

only the seeds of regularly-but-not-excessively polished apples could gain nourishment from the sweet flesh beneath the imperfect exterior layer of the apple.  these seeds, minuscule as they seemed, evolved into natural monuments to tower over rolling hills and tumultuous  seas. 

the end

{for reals}

while the parable is not mine, the words are. credit goes to my dear former religion professor, brother bartholomew, for his inspired idea.

he shared it with me, and a host of other young women, at byu's final recapturing beauty event. 

to break it down for you, 

the apple= our temporary condition

the tree= our heavenly father

the seed= our divine potential

*in every seed, there is a tree. 

i am an apple now, but i am not an apple.

my body does not define me.

i am me. i am a seed, in my core. my dear heavenly father {tree} is teaching me how to nourish myself, to thrust my roots in deep, so i can grow into a tree of eternal magnificence. 

it's hard, being an apple. fear of falling and worms. some days are shiny, some days are matte. 

people who go grocery shopping are searching for the shiny apple-

--everyone loves the shiny ones.--

but have you ever bitten into an apple of glossy glamor only to be assaulted by a bitter and decayed flesh?

i put on a fresh coat of polish in the mornings. that's good and healthy. but the obsession with shinning yourself into physical perfection is time-corrupting and superficial.  i was reminded of that today.

it's not about how much apple-shine-perfecting-polish you can lather on. it's about the seed inside you. 

that inner beauty and strength 

that no one else, 

but the very perceptive, 

can see.

sometimes, i forget what is at my core. 

but without fail in my frailty, i am gently reminded through tender mercies and the compassion of friends.  

nourish it, the best way you can! grow and grow and grow until you feel "complete", "finished"-- not perfect, as we so often think we must be. 

the growth doesn't come overnight.

i, too, am learning it's a process.

but with time and patience and a whole lot of faith, that seed will blossom into a shimmer no amount of apple-shine-perfecting-polish can buff. 

we can glow all on our own.