Anna and I have decided to not to spray our yard or our driveway for crabgrass or weeds. This decision seemed like one way we could treat God's good creation with kindness. Well, as we all know, no good deed goes unpunished. In this case, the punishment we received for kindly restraining to use Round-up is a wild harvest of weeds - sprawling into the garden and over the yard. But, most of all, the weeds have run rampant into our gravel driveway. When we arrived home from vacation a few weeks ago, it was hard to tell where the driveway was ... or had been. It had been swallowed by that vibrant, healthy earth.
This is why for the last several weeks I've been out in the gravel and the weeds after dinner time. Little by little, I've been picking at the stiff strands of crabgrass and pulling the tough weed from the ground. Thankfully I've found that with a little tug the whole comes uprooted - it's dirty roots dangling down from my hand with bits of rock and stone.
When I woke this morning, I thought about those weeds and not because I wanted to pick them. No, it was too early for that. I was - instead - trying to hold to a discipline: taking time to listen to God.
I walked out to that old barn in the new day light, sat down in the chair and opened up my Bible to the seventh chapter of Luke's Gospel. I read the passage. A few minutes passed while I stared out at the trees. Then, I realized that the Bible was still open. I could not for the life of me remember what I had just read.
That's when I thought about those weeds - all grown up and gathered into the drive. I thought, too, about all those other weeds that keep meaning and trying to overtake our garden - choking out the good seed that was sown.
And while I stared at my open Bible and the passage I could not remember, I remembered that other passage that fixed itself to my attention: about those scattered seeds Jesus talked about, ready to come forth into life and blessing, but how a certain amount of that seed was choked out by weeds. The cares of the world have grown heavy around my mind and heart - leaving me mostly deaf and blind to the Word of Life that is near and always is.
Looks like I've got some more pulling to do.
Wes
This is why for the last several weeks I've been out in the gravel and the weeds after dinner time. Little by little, I've been picking at the stiff strands of crabgrass and pulling the tough weed from the ground. Thankfully I've found that with a little tug the whole comes uprooted - it's dirty roots dangling down from my hand with bits of rock and stone.
When I woke this morning, I thought about those weeds and not because I wanted to pick them. No, it was too early for that. I was - instead - trying to hold to a discipline: taking time to listen to God.
I walked out to that old barn in the new day light, sat down in the chair and opened up my Bible to the seventh chapter of Luke's Gospel. I read the passage. A few minutes passed while I stared out at the trees. Then, I realized that the Bible was still open. I could not for the life of me remember what I had just read.
That's when I thought about those weeds - all grown up and gathered into the drive. I thought, too, about all those other weeds that keep meaning and trying to overtake our garden - choking out the good seed that was sown.
And while I stared at my open Bible and the passage I could not remember, I remembered that other passage that fixed itself to my attention: about those scattered seeds Jesus talked about, ready to come forth into life and blessing, but how a certain amount of that seed was choked out by weeds. The cares of the world have grown heavy around my mind and heart - leaving me mostly deaf and blind to the Word of Life that is near and always is.
Looks like I've got some more pulling to do.
Wes
Comments
Post a Comment