the juice is worth the squeeze

Since the start of this humble blog not so long ago, I've never mentioned the inspiration that led me to bestow the name of "Hope&Pomegranate". And even though you lovely readers out there have failed to ever inquire upon the subject, I am nonetheless here to offer a response.

I am a huge fan of exotic fruits. When I was a kid, my favorite fruits usually turned out to be the most expensive and hard-to-get fruits on the market. Starfruit, lychee, sugar cane, pomegranate, dragonfruit...loved 'em all. Apples, bananas, grapes were good, but they were just so ordinary and prevalent. I, being the little brat that I was, always wanted the off-season or imported fruits that sold in limited quantities for outrageous prices. As I grew older, my parents stopped showering me with gifts of exotic fruits and opted for simpler everyday ones. I didn't mind; I had more important things to worry about.

However, a little while back, my mother came home with a pomegranate, a fruit I hadn't remembered eating since my childhood. It was a gift from her co-worker and looked absolutely gorgeous. After dinner that night, my mother asked me if I wanted to have it for dessert along with some ice cream perhaps. Although my first inclination was to say yes, I paused and considered the consequences of my would-be decision. If I were to eat the pomegranate, I would first have to go through a series of tedious steps of cutting it open and wading through all the pulp in order to extract the seeds, only to find myself enjoying a few teaspoons of juice for a duration of seconds before having to spit out the seeds. I decided that it wasn't worth it and declined the offer.

For the next few days, that lonely pomegranate sat ignored in the fridge. I saw it every time I opened the the fridge, always glancing hungrily at it, but always too lazy to put in the effort. Poor pomegranate.

Finally, one afternoon I was absolutely dying for something sweet and juicy. My mother was running late from work and I was getting restless and hungry at home. I flung open the fridge door and without thinking, grabbed the long-abandoned fruit. I tore it open and began my long excavation of the plump, red seeds. Five minutes later, I had about 40 out of the approximate 600 tiny seeds extracted. ONLY FORTY! I could have engulfed an entire fuji apple already! Boy, was I frustrated!

But then I figured that since I had come so far, I might as well at least finish extracting the seeds for half of the fruit, saving the other half for later (or whoever else that may have the patience for such labor). So thirty minutes later, I had filled a bowl half-full with plump little red pomegranate seeds ready for the eating. I plunged my spoon into the bowl, scooped a spoonful and shoved it in my mouth. Immediately, the sweetest, most delectable juice I've ever tasted filled my mouth. My taste buds were in heaven, absolute heaven. I stared at the rest of my hard work sitting in the bowl, amazed. The juice was definitely worth the squeeze.

I have found that my walk with Christ and the process of acquiring Faith intrinsically parallels my incident with the pomegranate. The notion of having Faith was so appealing. I knew on a superficial, textbook level that having Faith in Him would do wonders in my life but at the same time, I didn't really want to commit and work hard at digging for things deep inside of me. I wanted the seeds to magically pop right out of the pomegranate and be mine for the taking. But somehow during these past few years, the people and situations that God has placed around me have really inspired me to dig for those seeds, spending frustrating days and weeks struggling with myself. And I can tell you, without knowing what's in store for me in the future, that the juice has already been worth the squeeze.

With more pomegranates in my fridge and increasing hope for the future, I write.