I grow up on a farm … a farm with lots of weeds. I wish I could say I don’t have much experience with them, but that would be a lie. The truth is, I spend many afternoons in that central-San-Joaquin-valley sun pulling countless weeds, and I never, ever enjoy it. In fact, it seems my garden-grooming efforts are always in vain, as those weeds return again and again.
I hear my dad offer advice and I listen in closely. Because I’m looking for all the advice I can get to decrease the need for this awful chore.
“Go slow, and make sure you get every root,” he says.
So I go slow.
My fingers grip the stalk of each weed, and over time, my skin stains green. Dirt moves in under my nails. My knees wear the imprint of the soil, and it isn’t long before my legs and back feel the strain.
I continue on, patient and slow, wriggling each stalk a bit at a time. I rock those stalks back and forth in a rhythmic dance, wrestling to get each root up intact.
But as time passes I’m more careless. Hot and fatigued, I just want results … I want the task to be over. I want to see a clear patch of dirt, free of weeds, so I can be done. The harder it is and the longer it takes, the more I hurry. And with my rush, I leave many roots in the ground.
By the time I finish, the patch of dirt is free of weeds, or so it seems. But because I rush for results, weeds still live deep beneath the dirt. And it isn’t long before many are back, wielding their leaves above the surface of the ground … begging for more weed-pulling afternoons.
Until the root is removed, it will always resurface.
And until the root of our brokennes is dealt with, the pain will always return. ←Click to tweet
How many times do we rush through our healing … hurrying to clean up our act?
Quickly complying, masquerading as one who is free?
Forcing ourselves to play the part of one who’s already been mended?
All because we want results … a quick fix. No wrestling or wriggling, we want a less strenuous option.
But because of our rush, the root of our pain is still there, lying dormant. Perhaps it’s manageable, but the mending’s still a facade, often fooling our very own selves.
As we continue in our journey to be mended, it’s so important to do the work–to patiently pull the root of anything that impedes our permanent mending.
But to do that we must remove the root and deal with the whole of that weed once and for all, with the hope that the ground that’s left behind is able to be fertile and receptive, allowing God’s truth to grow and flourish there.
Won’t you join us as we continue to be mended in community?
What is still beneath the surface of your heart that you need to root out?
What is your biggest challenge to being mended?
Here’s the schedule for the coming weeks…
March 21 – Chapters 13-16 :: Jacque
March 28 – Chapters 17-19 :: Tracie
April 4 – Chapters 20-22 :: Jacque
April 11 – Chapters 23-25 :: Denise
April 18 – Chapters 26-28 :: Tracie
April 25 – Chapters 29-31 :: Concluding Thoughts
To join us over at Denise’s, click here…