Weeding Life

After The Closer Walk Christian Bookstore closing, three weeks with grandkids and other family and friends, I am beginning to focus on future hopes and plans. 

"Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me and lead me in the way everlasting." Psalm 139:23-24

Trying to imagine a structure for a life free from the boundaries of store hours, I wrote in my journal:

 Immediate goals:

My overgrown garden

Weed garden,

weed house,

weed spiritual habits,

weed eating habits.

Even in a time of no water, somehow weeds grow. It is always a gift to play in the dirt but oh, how dry the dirt is! As I began untangling watermelon vines from grass, lambs quarter, grass burrs and morning glory vines, I realized I was so far behind, if we’d had rain, it would have been hopeless.

Weeds come out easily in the powder of my sandy soil, the roots shed the dirt and the top soil remains. Yet, I know some roots remain, eluding my shovel. Those delicate wild Morning Glory vines that wind around anything close have roots that extend twenty feet or more as does Johnson grass and probably countless others. So is it an illusion to think I am weeding? I am simply clearing the obvious, like treating the symptoms. When the rains return I’ll see pesky heads pop up as if taunting the spade they escaped.

When rain comes and the earth drinks its full of heaven’s bounty will I give the time and diligence needed to keep the intruders at bay?

 As I continue to dig, it’s the same question I ask God about my heart?

If there are roots of weeds left in my garden, are their roots of weeds left in my heart?

How often have I repented of the weeds exposed during dry spells. “Father, I take You for granted. Father I don’t spend time with you. Father, I tell You what to do instead of listening. I want my own way more than Yours. I don’t trust in Your goodness. On and on. Forgive me.”

Weeded garden

I am absolutely sincere in my desire to rout everything in opposition to God’s purposes. Waiting for the quenching of God’s presence and moving of His spirit in my life, I make promises. Can I keep them?

The soil of my soul looks clean, well turned, and ready for seed-blessings. Are there still roots of rebellion lurking underneath, waiting to sprout in new and vigorous growth?

Lord, God, when the blessings overflow, help me remember the time of weeding and be ever vigilant to surrender my heart to Your weeding.