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Peeling Pomegranates

It’s been years since I peeled a pomegranate. I usually take the easy way out and buy the seeds of pomegranates or even the juice, but yesterday I decided to buy a pomegranate to show our four and half-year-old and our twenty-month-old as we were talking about seeds and how things grow.

Something happened as I sunk my fingers into the stem and pulled the peel back to reveal the red, ripe fruit. I was transported in that minute to sharing a pomegranate with a friend in Germany eleven years ago. I was transported to the same place and same time where we were sharing stories of what it was like to be a foreigner in a foreign land.

I felt tears brimming in my eyes for the memory that connected me to who I was to who I am now for the briefest moment. I was overwhelmed with the reminder that our experiences are connected to the here and now in a way that maybe only the mysterious Spirit understand.

In a time and place where connection feels so different and absent, sometimes a simple fruit is the holiest communion.