Is Your Garden Full of Weeds?

Jungle weeds. At least, that is what I called them. They were huge. As tall as the top of our deck and blocking the view of our neighbors. In my head, I figured they had come from the island of King Kong. You know, the place in that movie with Jack Black where the bugs are the size of humans and everything is 100 times bigger than normal? The leaves of these weeds were twice the size of dinner plates, and the stalks were as wide as drinking glasses.

So there they were, growing and flourishing in our untamed backyard. And here we were, not doing anything about them. At that point, the thought of trying to root them out was turning into a sweaty mind workout. It took the right kind of mood and the perfect weather for me to get started.

My husband and I suited up with our knee-high rain boots, garden gloves, and SPF 30. We grabbed our digging shovels, gave ourselves a pep talk, and off we started. The work was hot and cardio-inducing, and my arms were like rubber by the time we finished. The amount of bugs and dirt and sweat that gathered on my clothes was a testament that we should have tackled this project months prior. On one of our trips to the city yard refuse site, a thought occurred to me.

All of this digging and uprooting and messy, disgusting work could have been a lot easier if we had only started it when the weeds were small and manageable. And isn’t that same idea true about the sin we allow to grow in our lives?

James tells us in chapter 1, verse 15 that “desire when it has conceived gives birth to sin, and sin when it is fully grown brings forth death.” The idea of sin being able to grow made me think of my jungle weeds.

I’ll admit I am absolutely horrendous at gardening. There are things growing in our backyard that I think are beautiful but that even amateurs can easily identify as weeds. I’ve just never studied plants well enough to know the difference. The same thing is true of my sin. In order to root out the sin, I need to be able to recognize it. In order to do that, I need to study God’s Word.

I’ve been reading in Exodus, about how God delivers the Israelites from being slaves in Egypt. Their response to their rescue is filled with grumblings. They would have rather stayed in Egypt where they at least had meat instead of manna. When I read this narrative, my reaction is to judge them. God protected them from the plagues, parted the Red Sea to allow them to escape the soldiers chasing them, turned bitter water into sweet drink, gave them food that would never run out, and caused fresh water to come out of a rock.

What more could these people want or need from God in order to believe that he would take care of them?

But as I sit on my deck and contemplate this with the sun tanning my body and the breeze gently drying my sweat, I realize that I have become like one of the grumbling Israelites. I have let my disgust and complaints grow like jungle weeds in my life.

• The store is out of toilet paper and soap? Grumble.
• I still have my job through this pandemic but I just want to take a vacation? Grumble.
• I ordered something online and it’s taking 3-4 weeks to deliver? Grumble.
• I have dark roots and grey hairs but the hair salons aren’t open? Grumble.

Through all of these grumblings, I have missed the parted waters and the sweet drink and the safety God has been giving me. I have a refrigerator full of food, whether or not it is the food I had on my grocery list. I am able to pay the bills and put money away into savings. I have a full head of hair that many other women have been envious of.

God has given us a unique time in history, one wherein he seems to be asking us to focus internally by taking all of the external pleasures away. When we venture to the internal places, to the gardens of our hearts, what do we see? Is it a beautiful field of colorful flowers that maybe has only a few small dandelions to uproot? Or is it a massively overgrown and untamed garden that has choked the life out of anything lovely and able to bear fruit? Perhaps it’s somewhere in between, and the flowers and fruits are steadily growing but the weeds have grown just as tall.

Whatever our gardens look like, I pray that our complaints do not overshadow God’s amazing faithfulness, that our discontentment does not cause us to forget the blessings we have, and that we are able to thank God for the water he gives us to drink, regardless of whether it tastes bitter or sweet.

May we simply praise him for being the Lord our God.

Audrey Osborn has been happily married for just over two years and currently works from home in Grand Rapids, Michigan as a technical writer for a pharmaceutical company. She loves quiet mornings, decaf coffee, cats, crafting, and spending quality time with Jesus, family, and friends. She and her hubby are excited to be pursuing foster care or adoption with the hope of bringing love to kiddos in need. “Now may the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him.”

Photograph © Lea, used with permission