Are You Pulling Your Weeds?

I am a gardener at heart. My mother taught me how to lovingly care for plants at a young age, and pruning and weeding became soothing to my soul as I became an adult.

Every time I walk out my front door to check the mail or pull the trash can and recycling bin down our steep driveway, I inevitably notice a few newly sprouted weeds in my flower bed. Sometimes I’ll stay outside for fifteen minutes, faithfully pulling weeds, and my children will come out on the front porch, looking for me. They’re starting to learn that I always pause to pull the weeds.

If I go out of town for a few days, or if I don’t spend much time outside for a week because of inclement weather or an overly hectic schedule, the weeds begin to take over. Then, removing them starts to feel like a chore instead of a habit, like a problem rather than a pastime. When the weeds are out of control, I detest caring for my garden instead of enjoying it.

My spiritual life follows a similar pattern. I’ve discovered that regular weeding provides great results, but an untended faith, like an untended flower bed, becomes an ugly eyesore in need of upkeep.

When I neglect to pray, read Scripture, or fellowship with other believers, pesky idols creep in and threaten to take over, pulling me away from my purpose of glorifying God. If I don’t immediately pull these distractions by their roots, or identify and eliminate their true source, the persistent and resilient weeds multiply.

I love the expression “Bloom where you’re planted,” but a flower can’t bloom when weeds are stealing its water and nutrients.

In central Texas, we have a yellow flowering weed called “bastard-cabbage” that each year threatens to choke out our roadside state flower, the bluebonnet. We also have an overabundance of Ashe juniper, locally called “cedar.” They’re trees that divert water from our beautiful live oaks during hot, thirsty summers.

Idols, like invasive plant species, make it difficult for us to thrive. They steal away what we really need—light, living water, and room to grow—and distract us from our goals. They crowd out our potential for beauty and purity with the darkness of our sin.

The practice of removing weeds and working the land began with the fall of man from paradise. Before sin filled the earth, Eden was filled with beneficial flora and fauna. No editing was needed, except for maybe that pesky snake.

After Adam and Eve ate the forbidden fruit and hid in shame, God told Adam, “Because you listened to your wife and ate fruit from the tree about which I commanded you, ‘You must not eat from it,’

“Cursed is the ground because of you;
through painful toil you will eat food from it
all the days of your life.
It will produce thorns and thistles for you,
and you will eat the plants of the field.
By the sweat of your brow
you will eat your food
until you return to the ground,
since from it you were taken;
for dust you are
and to dust you will return.” (Genesis 3:17–19 NIV)

Weeds (thorns and thistles), like idols, are a direct result of man’s disobedience. Adam and Eve chose their desire for control over their desire for God, and evil flourished in the land.

Ongoing submission to God means diligently pulling the stubborn weeds out of our lives on a regular basis. It means recognizing and removing our temptation to sin each day. It means refusing to let our selfishness grow until it controls our choices.

As King Solomon wisely instructed, “Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it” (Proverbs 4:23 NIV). Guarding our hearts requires us to uproot our deepest vices—our pride, our jealousy, and our greed—over and over in faithful obedience, so they do not lead us to sin.

Lauren Flake writes about her journey as a wife, mom to two little girls and Alzheimer’s daughter in her native Austin, Texas, at For the Love of Dixie. Her first book, Where Did My Sweet Grandma Go? was published in 2016. She thrives on green tea, Tex-Mex, and all things turquoise.