Once a patch of wild earth, my yard is now a sanctuary to butterflies and birds. An emerald oasis bordered by a palette of perennial colors. Yellow Columbine, purple Iris, pink Azaleas, and pale blue Forget-me-not appear like magic.
Just one problem.
In wanting the perfect garden, my eyes are drawn like magnets towards the weeds. And I wonder. Is that my outlook on life?
Is everything that is right with the world upstaged by evil? Do I fixate on the negative when I look at my family, or myself? Does a root of bitterness within my heart overshadow the good in others?
Again I’m confronted. Where’s my focus? Why the weeds, instead of the Master Gardener?
Beneath a canopy of oak trees, I kneel in the flowerbed. Listen and wait for the Master Gardener to cultivate my heart.
Prune plants, pull up weeds, scatter seeds. Fertilize and water. Remember…..
Last year, my Crimson Pygmy Barberry Bush appeared dead. But once I transplanted it to a sunnier location, it thrived. My Crepe Myrtle tree has grown very little over the years. But it still produces cherry crinkled blossoms in the summer.
I’ve marveled at the hardy Forget-me-not that survived in the cement cracks. And watched dismayed as my diseased ivy wasted away one winter only to grow back more prolific in the spring.
Sounds like me.
Transferred by Jesus from darkness to light. Sin that tries to entangle my heart like a weed is purged, so I can enjoy abundant life. My soul fed with the Living Water. Spiritual growth spurts, and seasons of blight.
Clinging to the Vine, I become more like Him, revealing the fruits of the Spirit.
Knowing in the fullness of time, in the right season,
Jesus will come for the harvest.
“Put in your sickle and reap, because the hour to reap has come, because the harvest of the earth is ripe.” (Rev. 14:15)