Blackberries

The fruit, not the phone.

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My name is Tanner Olson and I am an author, poet, and speaker. Here I share whatever comes to mind. Often I’ll post a prayer or poem or reflection or story. Before you move onto the next thing hit the subscribe button! Thanks for being here.

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She wrote about blackberries and I ate up every word. My mouth began to water as I digested what she had to say. I closed the book as my stomach said to my brain, “So, we should probably find some blackberries.” My brain nodded in agreement as my mouth chimed in with a quiet, but certain, “Yes.”

I listened to my body and took it to the grocery store.

This is something new I am trying.
Listening to my body.
I’ve ignored its needs for the last few years and have only given it what I want to give it.
I give it something fried, endless amounts of social media, and before bed, a little whiskey.
My body wants to melt into the couch, stay up late, and get a tan from the endless glare of the TV screen.
But what it often needs is water, rest, and a slow walk outside beneath the sunshine or stars.
It needs a hug, reminders of grace, and time writing in the silence of early mornings.
My body needs a book, evenings with the ones I love around a campfire, and some blackberries.

I don’t remember the first time I had a blackberry, but I also don’t remember the day I was baptized.
I don’t remember the water falling across and down my forehead or hearing the pastor speak words of life and love over and through me.
But I can only imagine that on the day I first tried blackberries my hands were open, ready to receive a gift of goodness.

I paid $3.69 for a 6 ounce carton of blackberries at the local grocery store. 
This was with a coupon.
I don’t know if this is too much to pay for blackberries, but it didn’t matter.
All that mattered was that my craving for blackberries would soon be satisfied. 

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After writing this piece I posted on Substack (Notes), asking other writers to describe blackberries.

Here are a few: 

”wild-growing
along the hedgerows
my stained hands
cranking them into ice cream” -

Randy Longacre

“The rich man's fruit. Bitter and dark, yet strangely desirable. Eat them by the handful like a God-king, or sprinkle them on oatmeal...” -

Ben

“A surprise. You never know if you’re getting a sweet one or a sour one. It’s a gamble in every berry.” -

Jessica Neuman

”The taste of the promise of summer. Sweet, but a little bit tart. In Texas it rings particularly true, because lovely warm nights are here, but the days have some bite to them. Between the arrival of my berries and the ping of junebugs off my windows, I know summer is truly here.” -

William Wallace

Thanks to everyone who shared a description. I had to randomly pick a few! To read more responses, click here.

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I buckled them into the front seat and drove them home before carefully bathing them in the kitchen sink. I let the cold water wash over their dark purple exterior, slowly spraying free the dirt like this was their baptism. I gently dabbed each of them with a paper towel before sneaking the half bowl of blackberries past my wife and into the corner office.

Every bite was a tiny explosion of flavor, a taste of the earth still fresh from God’s garden, coming with a message that this is living.

I pause, telling myself what I always tell myself when I eat something this perfect: slow down and enjoy it.

I do, but 6 ounces is only a handful.

Too much and not enough. 

I let my mind drift as I slowly ate them.

I wondered if Jesus ever had a blackberry. 

The fruit, not the phone.

I wondered if Jesus ever ate so many that He got a stomach ache. 

I wondered if He ever got the purple juice on His white tunic and laughed because purple is the color of royalty.  

I wondered if He ever had a hard time sharing them.

I’m having a hard time sharing them right now.

I should be sharing these with my wife, but I can’t stop popping them into my mouth. 

Delicate pockets of fresh and warm juice from the sun explode and run down my chin.
My pointer finger quickly sweeps up the sweetness, brushing it back to my lips.
I eat another.
My jaw slowly crushes the berry as summer's blood fills my mouth.
This time none escapes. 
I eat another.
So sweet with a hint of bitterness.
They are nostalgic and comforting like a poem or confirmation verse or your mother telling you to stop while she laughs at what you’re doing.

You cannot eat a blackberry and not thank God. It’s impossible. It was like He created them to nourish and remind us that all creation points back to Him. These little wild and bumpy delicacies are one of the ways God shows off. Blackberries are the Grand Canyons of fruit. They are the lions of the backyard garden. They are the Psalm 23 of the produce section at the corner grocery store.

If you are feeling far from yourself or God, go get some blackberries. You’ll be brought back to life. You’ll taste goodness. You’ll remember beautiful things like grace and mercy and peace. You’ll say things like, “Mmm” and “Wow” and “Thank God.”

There are only a couple of blackberries left in the bowl now.
I remind myself I’ll want some after supper.
I should put them in the refrigerator and eat them cold.
I again think of sharing them with my wife.
Just one more.
Just one more.
Okay, this is the last one.
Okay, but seriously, this is the last one and then I am done. 

Every blackberry is the “last one” until I eat the last one.

It took me 20 minutes to eat 6 ounces of blackberries.
That comes out to about 18 cents a minute.
Which is totally worth it. 

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