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My father is an avid gardener. I have inherited very little of his green thumb, although I do enjoy puttering around out there when it's convenient. One day, as I was out in my garden, God began to speak to me through the weeds I was pulling.
How my garden loves for me to pull its weeds! The little leaves reach up and thank me for getting rid of these pests that compete with them for their food.
How very unlike myself. The garden of my heart is virtually overflowing with pride, resentment, jealousy, gluttony and numerous other weeds, all at different stages of growth. The Master Gardener is longing to come into this ugly little garden and get rid of all those nasty things but I am generally unwilling to have them gone. It hurts to have weeds pulled, and I've grown quite accustomed to them. I'm comfortable, sometimes even on a first name basis, with them.
The Gardener reminds me that every good branch must be pruned so that it can produce good fruit apparently He sees something worth saving here. Pruning and weeding are awful, painful chores, yet necessary. There is good fruit to be had, like gentleness, kindness and joy. How can a garden grow in joy when it has thistles poking out all over?
Of course, there aren't just weeds to contend with. One day, I was out in my garden weeding the corn. I had not gone more than three feet when the 7th battalion of the airborne mosquito army spotted me.
God showed me how like Satan those mosquitoes are. Satan distracts us with little bites of apathy (Who really cares anyway?) or discouragement (Nothing I do will make a difference.). We get busy swatting at "mosquitoes", and the weeds continue to flourish. The Gardener has something for that a "mosquito repellent" called Truth (Ephesians 6). The Gardener is also willing to swat mosquitoes that do break through if we flee to Him.
Weeding is humbling. It brings us down to our knees. It brings us face to face with our problem and allows our garden to grow and produce its fruit.
Lani Wiens lives in Asquith, Sask.
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