Weeds of the heart

I've recently begun developing a passion for gardening. Not the grow-your-own-food kind.  Just pretty flowers. Last spring I took on the task of expanding an existing bed. I did some research on killing grass and decided to combine several techniques. I sprayed the entire area with Round Up, lined the area with four layers of newspaper, and topped it off with a cherry, I mean gardening fabric. After bringing in new dirt, I planted my beauties and surrounded them with mulch. I was absolutely exhausted when I was finished, but it was the "good kind" of tired - you know, when you can stop and look at the product of your labor.  I enjoyed watching life spring from that beautiful new space last summer.

Then came fall with a crazy burst of crabgrass growth. You heard me - despite all of the preparation, the weeds still came. Once again I sprayed the area with Round Up, but the weather quickly grew too cold for this wimpy girl to be digging in the dirt. Assuming it would all die anyway, I left the dying weeds til warmer days.

Fast forward to last week. I had had it - the overgrowth of the crabgrass was taking away from the beauty of the plants in the bed. The butterfly bush was being choked out and was barely recognizable. The weather was great and the boys were napping, so I seized the moment. I donned my long sleeves and pants (to avoid the allergy mayhem that was sure to ensue) and set out to rid the bed of the crabgrass. I dug around in that bed for more than two hours - I haven't had such an intimate time with the Lord in months. As I was digging through the dirt, He began to quietly speak to my spirit. Your heart is much like this flower bed.

I learned a lot about crabgrass - I though I was going to go rip out all of the dead grass on the surface of the bed. I did and that task was relatively simple. The results were aesthetically pleasing. But the problem was much, much deeper. See, crabgrass "runs." What I mean is, it grows horizontally in really long pieces, sprouting roots at strategic points. It can quickly take over a space as it did mine. It also grows very deep roots. These aren't the nice give-it-a-big-yank-and-all-is-well kind of roots. These are thick, stubborn roots that grow deep into the ground. See, I told you this is like your heart. Lord, what do you mean?

Please know, that whole "Be still and know that I am God" thing, yeah, I STINK at that. I often feel a tugging in my Spirit that I know is from God, but this was more than a tug. This was being still and hearing His voice. 

Then it clicked. Much like that flower bed, I go through great seasons of preparation in my life. Attending seminars and conferences. Making plans and praying through details. I plant all kinds of beauties in my heart - staying at home with my kids, learning to be a submissive wife, being a better friend, exercising. But just like last summer, I sit and watch them, enjoying the brief season of blooms. As time passes, the weeds begin to grow - frustration with my spouse, selfish motives, anger with my children - and before long, that bed is overwhelmed with weeds. I may "spray the Round Up - confess, pray, resolve to do a better job - but ultimately, I wimp out. I decide it is too difficult and wait for a warmer season to weed. This is when the real damage is done. I have hardened my heart toward God and my family and become callous to my sin. The weeds begin to spread to all areas of my life and the deep roots begin to grow. Though the weeds may look dead on the surface - I can put on a darn good game face! - in my heart of hearts, I am choking. My new life with Christ is barely recognizable. I usually hit a breaking point when I resolve to pull out my tools and pull out some weeds, but I usually stick to the surface - that's where the results are most easily seen. My life looks better and for a time, I feel better. But the roots are still there, waiting to spring forth with new life.

I began to dig deeper and deeper into the earth, longing to find the tip of the root. To get it all out. I removed my gloves and really dug in, all the while my eyes being opened to the condition of my own heart. I never found the tips of those roots. I labored hard, working my hands to blisters. But my effort wasn't enough. Let me dig out the weeds. Put down your tools. Let me labor. My effort is more than enough.  See the hardening of my heart didn't happen over night and wasn't going to be cured with a quick surface weeding.  Nope- it is gonna take time.  It's gonna be long, dirty, and sometimes require painful digging.

But it is not about my effort - the preparation, the planting, the weeding. It is about my relationship with the Gardener. It isn't about the perfection of my bed or the bounty of my blooms. My Gardner doesn't care about the outside. It's the heart He desires.  So for now, today, I will put aside my gloves, my spade, and yes, my Round Up.  I'm going to lay them down at the feet of the One who can do infinitely better than my tools and cares enough to weed me out.