The Blessing in the Weeds

Yesterday was a hard day.

The overgrown weeds in our garden were a symbol of the larger challenges yesterday held, reflective of the past several months. I’ve felt overwhelmed and weary by so much. But at the end of another long exhausting day I looked at those weeds in our garden and knew that was something I could tend. So I began plunging my hands into the dirt, pulling up each weed by the root, hoping to get rid of it for good.

I sweat and worked for an hour making a small dent in the task, yet I was determined to stay the course until the job was done.

Then my husband Ted walked up and without saying a word began plunging his hands in the dirt too, joining me in the task. We worked quietly side-by-side pulling those weeds, shaking off the dirt, sweat dripping in the soil as the afternoon sun beat down on us.

And it all began to feel like grace. It felt like poetic redemption wrapping up a hard day. To have my husband unsolicitedly join me in the hard task was a picture of intercession: lightening the load by helping me bare it. The longer I worked, the longer we worked together, the freer my heart felt.

I found healing in the sandy Florida soil yesterday and it felt good.

Healing often comes in surprising ways. And ironically at the end of it all, as we were finishing up, I found myself grateful for the weeds. For if there were no weeds I wouldn’t have known the pleasure and satisfaction of getting my hands in the dirt and pulling them out.

The weeds, even in their unseemly presence, cared for my heart. Or perhaps it was Mother Earth joining me in the camaraderie of the work?

Creation transcends to heal in ways our other means fall short. This is the power of God. This is the power of love incarnate. You can feel it even in the dirt. Even the weeds have an important role to play. It all works together towards the summation of hope and healing. This is God using all things (even weeds) to work together for our good, because He is (that) good.

Perhaps even weeds are a blessing… I might not ever look at weeds the same again.