Weeds were never really a nuisance to me.
Come to think of it, anything related to gardening I was indifferent to. I suppose you could say I just never got the chance to dislike them.
But boy did that all change in Mozambique, where our ministry for the month consisted of hoes, rakes, SPF 75 sunscreen, a buff, and very very VERY dirty feet, hands and knees.
Yup, you guessed it! FARMING.
The first few weeks were not that bad! We were having a grand ol' time spending long hours under the hot African sun, clearing out the land in front of the property, getting pricked by the prickly thingys, and making beautifully straight and sexy mounds (if I may say so myself) were we could plant fruits and vegetables. Did I mention that none of us had ever done anything like this before in our lives?!
5 shades of brown later, I found myself on my hands and knees in the scorching dirt, trying to find a way to make a profound spiritual moment out of picking weeds, when deep inside I was ready to make like a baby and head out.
What frustrated me was that it felt like all the work we had been doing was in vain. We had spent nearly three weeks trying to clear the garden of the weeds and in a matter of two rainy days, all of our hard work had been sprouted upon by rather intrusively intruding blades of grass. RUDE.
What was MOST frustrating was that I let the enemy make me BELIEVE that what I was doing on the race was in vain. There I was, out on the field, trying to make a dent for the Kingdom by doing what?! Farming! WEEDING, to be exact!! How was that making a difference??
And even if I had been making a difference, was it only temporary?? Sure, I diligently spent my time pulling weeds out of the field, but did I get the obnoxious, spikey nodule/root out completely?? Not always. And that meant that the weed would grow right on back with a vengeance. So I pondered, is my time on the race like to that of a gardener, aimlessly tugging at blades of grass with no promise of fruit or consolation, except the assurance that more weed will sprout??
That’s when I heard Him, “Shift your perspective. You’re not the gardener. You are the weed!”
Me: Well, that’s a little backwards. Aren’t weeds undesirable and obnoxious?!
Papa: I'd like to think they are attacked and unyielding. My advice to you, make like a weed and be obnoxiously rooted…in Me!
Ephesians 3:17 “Then Christ will make his home in your hearts as you trust in Him. Your roots will grow down into God’s love and keep you strong.”
To be continued…
