Fruit picker who arrived here/ After the harvest

Hello friends and family,

I haven't written much about my job working with youth involved with the law due to alcohol and substance abuse at Sitka Counseling and Prevention Services, and I think I'm going to keep it that way, for boundaries sake. I do want to share this song by Jon Foreman that resonated with me as I was reading through police reports and drafting affidavits to send to the court. Working with criminal justice, I've found myself feeling "like a fruit-picker who arrived after the harvest" to use Jon Foreman's words. Fortunately, God is the ultimate keeper of the harvest, year after year, and stays through all seasons....


How miserable I am

I feel like a fruit-picker who arrived here

After the harvest

There's nothing here at all

Nothing at all here that could placate my hunger

The godly people are all gone

There's not one honest soul left alive

Here on the planet

We're all murderers and thieves

Setting traps here for even our brothers

And both of our hands are equally skilled

At doing evil, equally skilled

At bribing the judges, equally skilled

At perverting justice

Both of our hands

Both of our hands

....(more of the same)

(key change)

No, don't gloat over me

Though I fall, though I fall

I will rise again

Though I sit here in darkness

The Lord, the Lord alone

He will be my light

I will be patient as the Lord

Punishes me for the wrongs I've done

Against Him

After that, He'll take my case

Bringing me to light and the justice

For all I have suffered

And both of His hands

Are equally skilled

At ruining evil, equally skilled

At judging the judges, equally skilled

Administering justice

Both of His hands

Both of His hands

Are equally skilled

At showing me mercy, equally skilled

At loving the loveless, equally skilled

Administering justice

Both of His hands

Both of His hands