Once there was a plot of land covered in weeds and wild flowers. One day, he looked over at his garden neighbor, and he thought, “I wish I were a beautiful garden too. I love how the gardener comes to take care of all the plants—how he feeds it, waters it, weeds it, and harvests the fruits and vegetables every day. I could never be a garden because I have too many weeds.”
For years he tried to wish he could have beautiful beds for the gardener to tend to, but as he watched the garden next to him grow bigger and fuller, his weeds grew so large that he started to lose sight of the gardener. One day he was venting to the mountains, “Why can’t I have fertile beds for the gardener to use? He always tends the garden and never looks at me!”
The mountains sighed, “Plot, you can’t just wish to be a garden. Have you tried asking the gardener to help you?”
“No!” Yelled the plot, “He can’t plant here; I’ve got all these weeds!”
The chuckling mountains rumbled, “You should try asking him. See what happens.”
The plot decided to take the mountain’s advice, but he just knew the gardener would laugh at him after giving one look at all his weeds. The next day, as the gardener came by to harvest some fruit from the garden, the plot whispered, “Hey, gardener, I know you’re busy, but do you think I could be a garden too?”
The gardener’s dimples deepened as a smile creped across his face. “Of course I can make you a garden, but it’s not going to be easy.”
The plot squealed with joy. It figured as soon as the sun covered him the next morning, all the weeds would be gone. As the sun peeked over the mountains the next morning, the plot looked around and saw that all the weeds were still present. He saw the gardener in the distance and began panicking, “He’ll never make me a garden now!”
As the gardener grew closer, the plot saw that the gardener had tools he’d never seen before. “What are you doing?” The plot asked, “I want to be a garden!”
“I told you this wasn’t going to be easy,” the gardener quietly said, “We’ve got a lot of work to do.”
The plot groaned as the gardener cut down the overgrown weeds. “How come I’m not a garden with fruit yet?” He asked the gardener one day.
“It will be worth it,” the gardener promised.
Finally the weeds no longer overpowered the plot, and he thought, “NOW I can have fruit!” Until he saw the gardener come towards him with different tools. “I’ve come such a long way, what else do I need?” The plot asked as the gardener raised up a hoe and brought it down upon the compact soil. “OW THIS HURTS STOP!”
The gardener stopped. The plot refused to allow the gardener to touch him again because he thought he was good enough to be a garden already. For weeks, he denied the gardener’s presence, and suddenly his weeds began to grow taller again. “The gardener already cut these! What’s going on?” He cried to the mountains.
“You told him to stop, “ the mountains boomed, “You have to tell him it’s ok to come back.”
The plot knew the mountains were right, but he still felt the sting of the hoe in his soil. The next day, he asked the gardener to come back. “It won’t be easy,” the gardener reassured him, “Are you willing to accept that?”
The plot answered slowly, “Yes. I want to be a garden.”
The gardener had to cut back the newly grown weeds first. The plot dreaded the next day; he knew the sting of the hoe, and dreaded it. He knew he desired to be a garden, though, and decided to toughen up. The next day, the gardener came without a hoe and began pulling the weeds one by one.
“What are you doing?” The plot asked, “I thought you were going to bring the hoe.”
“It’s more than you can bear right now;” the gardener said, “we need to take one weed out at a time. It will still hurt a little, but I think you can handle this better.”
The weeding process still hurt, but the plot felt smaller amounts of pain with every day. One day, the gardener grabbed hold of a small, leafy plant. As he pulled, the dirt around it began to crack and groan. The plot grimaced and gasped as the gardener completely removed it. The roots were the size of large watermelon.
“WOAH!” The plot yelled, “How did that happen?” The gardener chuckled, “Well sometimes, weeds don’t look like they’re very big, but their roots are deep inside and choke up anything under the soil around it.”
“Wow! Thank you, gardener!” Exhaled the plot.
Every now and then, the gardener would find another deep root, and the plot would try to let go of it, but oftentimes, it was just too deep. One day the gardener started pulling on a large, flowery plant.
“STOP!” Yelled the plot, “What are you doing?!”
The gardener gently responded, “Pulling out the weeds.”
“Not THAT one!” Pleaded the plot, “I like that one!”
“Well if you want to be a garden,” said the gardener, “you need to allow me to remove all of your weeds.”
“Can’t I keep just a couple?” The plot inquired.
“If you want to have full plants,” the gardener warned, “I need to get rid of all your weeds; otherwise, it will choke the healthy plants that produce fruit.”
After many days of trying to convince the gardener to let him keep the flowery weeds, the plot finally submitted to giving up one of his flowery weeds.
“I don’t tend to just a plot of weeds,” said the gardener, “I take care of gardens that allow me to take all their weeds. If you want to be a garden, you must completely submit to my skilled hand.”
“I want to be a garden!” Said the plot, “I give ALL my weeds to you! Take them all!”
The gardener beamed, “I’m so excited to have another garden.”
When the gardener finally pulled out all the weeds, the plot felt like he could handle the hoe.
“I need to loosen the soil, plot,” the gardener said, “May I bring the hoe tomorrow?”
The plot agreed, “Yes. I can handle it now.”
The next day, the gardener brought the hoe and began loosening the plot’s soil. The plot felt bruised every day, but the gardener comforted him, “This is just a season, plot. One day you will be a garden.”
That hope numbed his pain, but as the plot looked at its neighbor, he doubted he’d ever grow tomatoes that big. Finally, the gardener came and asked the plot if he was ready to be a garden.
“YES!” The plot yelled.
The gardener began digging and planting seeds, and left. The plot looked around for the beautiful stalks and trees like his neighbor had, but it seemed he looked the same. The next day, the gardener came and the plot asked, “Where are my beautiful plants you promised? All you’ve done is poked and prodded me. I feel bruised and abandoned. I want fruit!”
A grin spread across the gardener’s face before he said, “I’m glad you’ve asked me instead of sending me away this time, dear garden. Just wait. Your fruit will grow in due time.”
“Did…did you just,” the new garden stuttered, “did you just call me a garden?”
“Yes,” the gardener said, “You are no longer just a plot; you are my garden now. You must allow me to bring you water and weed your soil daily. It won’t be easy, but one day you will bear fruit.”
There were some days the garden forgot and thought he could do it himself, but quickly realized he couldn’t get rid of the weeds himself. He realized he needed the gardener, and apologized every time it happened.
The garden began to grow small fruit, and after many years spent with the gardener, he began to produce larger and more beautiful fruits and vegetables. Now his favorite time of the day comes every time the gardener comes and hangs out with him.
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Your sin will not uproot itself; you cannot wish your sin away; nor will God the gardener take it without your permission. It will hurt. It won’t be easy. It’s never obvious how deep your sin is in your life until God the gardener begins to remove it.
Ask him to remove it. Let him take it out of you. Realize that it will take time to produce the fruits of the Spirit. It takes time to take out the deeply rooted sin and become a garden healthy enough to grow love, joy, peace, patience and kindness, which can only come from God.
