A Gathering of Goodness: A Narrative Devotional by Guest Writer Erica Gosen
This writing was created by Erica Gosen in relation to the art piece, titled, “A Gathering of Goodness”. I know you will enjoy her creative work that speaks to the power of the image, and brings a soothing exhale to any soul that has ever asked the question, “Can I depend on the goodness of God?”
Taste and see that the LORD is good. Oh, the joys of those who take refuge in Him. Psalm 34:8
PART I
“Mom–look! The rabbits must have come back again!” His excited little three-year-old voice was muffled against the fleece gator wrapped tightly around his neck. The wind grabbed at the edges of his hood. I shifted his little sister higher on my hip; her slippery snowsuit sliding further down my coat yet again. I couldn’t set her down—it was difficult enough for her not quite two-year-old legs to manage hefty winter boots, let alone the mounds of frozen tundra.
“Look, look!” His voice directed my eyes to the trunk of the brown and bare crabapple, my favorite tree centered in our backyard. How strange. At the base of the snow embankment a perfect barkless ring encircled the trunk. Like a peeled carrot, all outer layers were completely gnawed away. I didn’t fault the critters, at least in that moment, for apparently I wasn't the only one desperate to survive this bleak and barren season.
Yes, it was one of those Minnesota winters. When the first snow fell it blanketed the landscape, forever hiding all signs of life until spring. As the depth of cold months trudged along, the layers of white piled higher and higher around the tiny two bedroom duplex we rented yet called home.
The heaviness was felt not only within our cramped four walls but perhaps even more so in my heart. I don’t remember how long it had been that way—certainly longer than just the current winter season. I don’t even remember why it had started. Was it the pandemic? The persistent loneliness? Was it the utter exhaustion? For the baby, who was no longer a baby, was still not sleeping through the night. Was it losing out on the perfect home because our “highest and best” wasn’t enough even though we had been saving since day one of our marriage? Which was now almost seven years ago. Was it that I had spent more days trying to quell my doubts in God’s plan rather than face my honest questions about His goodness?
I looked back at the tree, my son still inspecting the bunnies’ lifeline. Closing my eyes I imagined the pink blossoms, the green leaves—spring would be my lifeline, right? God’s good design to bring all things dormant back to life.
PART II
Spring did arrive—
And yet the crabapple tree never bloomed.
Stripped of its support and protection, left vulnerable, it didn’t survive. The day the tree came down, my son and I watched all the commotion. The persistent chainsaw woke the napping babe and rattled my heart. It didn’t take long for the tree—and my tears—to fall. No one could stop either.
Is God’s plan still good? Is it still good when the diagnosis is not, when the email reads “sorry, we went a different direction,” when funds come up short, when there’s still only one pink line, when the crabapple doesn’t bloom?
My little boy, always seeking adventure, climbed up on one of the fallen logs; he teetered then steadied his balance.The faltering didn’t deter him from finding footing again. And maybe that’s the way forward. The tree wasn’t standing—but I still was. And God is still good. Saying it was much easier than believing it. So I started to gather the small joys around me. For when circumstances betray your heart and threaten the trust in His faithfulness—you keep claiming Truth, hoping one day you will wake up with it filling your heart once more. Taste and see the Lord is good. Driveway car washes turned to spontaneous water fights, zinnias sprouting pinks, purple, orange, the neighborhood little library, evening sunsets of a thousand golden hues reflecting off the lake’s silver edges, the single rosy cheek of a sleepy babe after a long summer’s nap, baby blue eyes and skies and juicy slices of red watermelon. Oh, the joys of those who take refuge in Him.
As the evening light grew longer and louder, summer warmed the scenes before my eyes. This practice of gathering joy, like crumbs I had once discarded, became a holy ritual—my senses coming alive again.
PART III
“They accepted the counter offer!” Our realtor’s voice came through crystal clear from the other end of the line, but honestly, I still couldn’t believe it.
With the rates now higher than seen in years, the beautiful two-story had been sitting on the market for a couple of months, slowly dropping in price until one late autumn day it popped up on the listings within our budget. It seemed too good to be true, checking basically all of our boxes, even some of the frivolous ones. Perfect location in a more established neighborhood, four bedrooms all on the same level, room enough to host family gatherings, oversized yard and patio, brick fireplace, gorgeously refinished kitchen, and favorite of mine—an apple tree situated in the corner of the backyard.
After eight years of waiting, we finally had our first—and perhaps—forever home.
PART IV
“Mom–mom! Come out here!” My son’s voice rang out from the corner of the backyard.
I peered out my post at the kitchen sink window; I couldn’t see him but I had a pretty good guess as to where he was. I stepped onto the patio, faint morning shadows cascading across the bricks. My feet met the dew dropped grass as I crossed our expansive suburban yard toward his urgent request. It was the first spring in our new home, but he had already learned the apple tree was also the perfect climbing tree.
“Look, look!” And then my eyes beheld it—
Blossoms upon blossoms, sprinkling the tree in soft white. The beautiful boughs framed my boy—whose delight in the discovery drew him higher still.
“We’re going to have apples, mom!”
I could already taste the bountiful harvest to come.
Erica Gosen is a former English teacher turned part-time HR professional and stay-at-home mom to her three little ones. She loves all things creativity and connection—especially writing about her days in the margins of motherhood and hosting gatherings of family and friends, like her annual Apple Festival!
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