From Olives to Oil

There are days that I find myself venting; wallowing in self-pity and living in melancholy.

I remember a few months ago, when my friends indulged me. I shared my recent concern and frustration with the official launching of my ministry. Though I had been engaged in spiritual formation work for the last five years, this year I had decided to make it official... and with that came all the details of launching and registering a business, developing a website, recording finances, thinking through a marketing strategy, etc. etc. etc. I came face-to-face with the amount of work and worry that it all entails. And so was conceived the nagging question: Would all be worth my time in the end? Was this worth my effort? Would anything of lasting significance come out of this? For as much as I want to have an altruistic and hope-filled posture towards others and God, I have to confess that there is an expectation that I will also receive a return on my investment.

To make my point, I found myself using an illustration of the harvesting of olives. November is harvest season in Portugal, where I come from. Countless farmers and homesteaders spend weeks trying to stay ahead of the rain or frost to pick the now ripe little black pearls from their trees. They recruit every available friendly hand to collect, sort through and sift those precious olives. The harvesting is followed by winding drives through country roads to the Co-Op,  waiting in long lines for their turn to have their olives weighed and priced. Each person's contribution is recorded so that, weeks later, the trip is repeated to pick up the return on their investment. Their reward is in the form of beautiful, pure, glistening bottles of the best olive oil you will ever taste. If you have tasted good olive oil, you know how priceless that is.

You see the point I was trying to make, right? Are tons of olives worth a few bottles of olive oil? Is all my hard work worth the little that I perceive I am reaping from it?

Weeks went past and life happened and I forgot this conversation. But my friends did not.

In the middle of a retreat I was hosting, they handed me a gift: a small, precious bottle of olive oil. They then proceeded to invite me to look around the room filled with 30 beautiful women, engaged in the work of retreat with hearts open to a precious encounter with Jesus. My friends brought my attention to the fact that I was witnessing my "olive oil." How I was both convicted and humbled at the truth before my eyes! This olive oil was priceless. Yes, there had been much work to get to that moment, but that moment was worth every minute spent before that.

What about you? I don’t need to give you examples of what your olives might be: those places where you are hard at work and wonder if it’s all worth it. Each one of us has an Olive Grove. Each one of us has chosen or has been given the work of our hands. We know the effort — both physically, mentally and emotionally — that it takes. And just like transforming olives to olive oil, we sometimes feel hard pressed to continue.

Since that day, I have seen that even a small change in perspective, touching the place where God is at work, is often enough to open up my eyes to the gift before me. The gift that is my life and the gift of good work. It doesn’t take much to flavor life. It doesn’t take but a few drops of olive oil to change the taste of any dish.

I am praying Psalm 90:16-17 this year:

“Let your work be shown to your servants, and your glorious power to their children. Let the favor of the Lord our God be upon us, and establish the work of our hands upon us; yes, establish the work of our hands!”

So, I press on. Cultivating and tending to what has been given me. Holding out faith for the future harvest. Hoping to be aware of God’s favor in the room.

From olives to oil, I wouldn’t want it any other way.

~ Sylvia

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Living with eyes wide open to the to love of God in everything, everyone and everywhere.