Tomatoes & Basil: A Parable on Growing Together
A month ago, I found myself obsessed with tomatoes.
Not just eating them, but noticing them. The colours. The size. The ease of growing them. Red, yellow, orange, and on rare occasions… green. My kitchen was suddenly a mini orchard of tomato varieties, and I was low-key fascinated.
Out of curiosity, I did a mini deep dive online. I found that while tomatoes are relatively easy to grow, there’s a pruning process involved — you have to remove the bottom third of the plant’s leaves to encourage the fruit to come forth properly. Why? Because those extra leaves, though leafy, distract the energy from the actual fruit-bearing process.
That hit me. Sometimes, in life, even the good-looking things — ideas, habits, busyness — need to be pruned so we can bear the fruit we’re meant to produce.
Then came the part that got me: basil.
Basil is known as the perfect companion plant for tomatoes. It doesn’t produce fruit. It isn’t showy. But it helps the tomato thrive, keeping pests away, enhancing the surrounding air quality, and even elevating the tomato’s final flavour when the two are eventually harvested together.
🌿 Pause.
That’s a word.
It reminded me that not every “plant” in your life is meant to produce fruit — some are there to support your growth while growing in their own right. Some people, practices, or even seemingly small disciplines, don’t look like they’re “doing much”… but they’re preserving your process. They’re adding flavour to your faith.
And sometimes, you are the basil in someone else's season.
Like Romans 12:4 –5 reminds us:
“For just as each of us has one body with many members, and these members do not all have the same function,
so in Christ we, though many, form one body, and each member belongs to all the others.” (NIV)
The tomato isn’t better than the basil. The fruit isn’t more valuable than the support. It’s all about alignment, timing, and pairing.
So today, I honour the ones who help others flourish.
The ones growing silently in the background.
The ones pruning where they need to.
The ones flavouring life with quiet intention.
Today’s lunch?
Ciabatta garlic bread. A medley of marinated tomatoes, fresh basil, cracked pepper, balsamic, and a little homemade salt blend from a friend whose seasoning brand will soon be out in the world.
It wasn’t just food.
It was a reminder.
Grow well. Pair wisely. Don’t rush the flavour.