Weeds, Final Thoughts

Though weed-free is a fantasy, weed-controlled is a possibility. Whether in the garden or in life, a persistent attack on weeds will ensure that I have increasingly fewer weeds to control. The Apostle Paul explained: “Just as you used to offer the parts of your body in slavery to impurity and to ever-increasing wickedness, so now offer them in slavery to righteousness leading to holiness.” (v.19) When I repeatedly submit to sin, I become enslaved "to ever-increasing wickedness." But when I submit to God, I become a slave to righteousness. Each time I refused to berate one of my son's coaches, it became easier the next time, and even easier the next. As I repeatedly knocked that weed back, its hold on me was weakened and I became increasingly bound by the good.

The chore of weeding is my chore. The cutworms won't decapitate my dandelions. The aphids won't annihilate my bindweed. The cattle won't consume my thistles. Look at a well-grazed pasture. The cattle keep the grasses trimmed to lawn height -- except for the three-foot high thistle spikes. (I don't blame the cows. I put on gloves to uproot thistles -- imagine eating one!)

I, too, must become a weed warrior, continually combatting the weeds that threaten to overtake my life. I must repeatedly praise God during an illness to fight the weed of self-pity. I must routinely play with my children to knock back the weed of selfishness. I am in a contest with weeds to see what will cover the ground. Will I sit idly back and let life-strangling weeds fill my life? Or will I struggle to establish Christ-honoring growth? I have a choice. The ground is bare -- but it won't stay bare for long.

The Persistence of Weeds: Part 2

The perpetual problem of weeds torments the perfectionist. (But what doesn't frustrate a perfectionist?) Henry Scougal, a seventeenth century Scottish believer, understood these relentless struggles with sin:

 

I cannot get all my corruptions starved. There are still some worldly desires lurking in my heart, and those vanities that I have shut out of the doors are always getting in by the windows.

 

I cannot entirely purge the toxic desires buried in my heart. And whenever one pushes through the soil of my life, I must uproot it again -- and again and again. When my sons’ basketball careers resurrected my dormant dream of starring on a high school basketball team, that dream had to be repeatedly uprooted. But invariably I left a few seeds in the soil of my heart which would sprout anew, and again (sigh!) have to be expelled.

What is the life-sucking weed you struggle with? (If you don’t know, ask your spouse or a close friend!) Consider the man whose fall leisure has been hunting, but now realizes that his obsession has strangled other God-given work. Will he find it easy to establish Biblical priorities? It may be excruciatingly difficult. When he sees his guns hanging in the gun case, when his buddies recount their hunting exploits, when he hears the call of migrating geese, -- each of these reminders will tug at his heart, luring him from his eternal callings. And even if he adopts godly priorities for one season, that weed may perennially assault his soul.

 

We all have weed seeds that hide in the soil of our hearts, squeezing out our fruitfulness. Which ones lurk in the soil of your heart?

The Persistence of Weeds, Part 1

How can I slay 100% of the weeds in my garden and within days a swarm of new weeds sprout? My enemies must be sneaking truckloads of weed seeds into my garden!

These wily seeds are impossible to expel because they have such cunning methods of dispersal. Weed seeds helicopter through the air. They hook into dog's fur. They hide in horse manure. They hitch a ride on my shoelaces. They are expelled in bird droppings. They are buried by forgetful squirrels. And once stockpiled in my soil, these seeds can lie dormant for centuries, patiently waiting to be brought near the surface where they will sprout and torment my great-great grandchildren!

As I have confessed, one of my chronic weeds has been looking for life through sports. As a boy, I was consumed by sports – playing and watching and dreaming about them. I could survive a week at summer camp only if Mom would send me the sports clippings from the daily newspaper! But as I matured in my walk with God (and as my opportunities for athletic glory diminished!) that weed appeared to die.

I was duped. Before that mature weed was uprooted, it had dropped countless seeds in the furrows of my heart. Some of those seeds were dredged to the surface and sprouted when my sons began playing high school basketball. One of my sons spent most of one year playing behind a boy who was much less talented (this was the judgment of a college basketball coach.)

His season long disappointment was an ongoing struggle for him—and for me! As his trial wore on, I was wearing out. At one low point I wrote in my journal: "Because basketball was such a significant part of my childhood hopes and dreams, these games are very painful. In my mind I know that God is in control and I know my son will have the experience that God wants him to have. But I'm tired of fighting this battle."

My challenge was to repeatedly and vigorously knock down that ever-sprouting weed: "Do not offer the parts of your body to sin, as instruments of wickedness, but rather offer yourselves to God, as those who have been brought from death to life; and offer the parts of your body to him as instruments of righteousness. Rom.6:13

When I was tempted, I had a choice--I could offer myself to God or to sin. When attending a game, I could sit by my co-grumblers—“What in the world is Coach doing now? Is he brain dead?!" Or, I could sit by someone who would encourage a respectful attitude--"It is sure tough being a coach." And in the car ride home, I could submit my will (and my mouth!) to new evidence of injustice or I could submit my will to God: "Lord, I know you are working for good in my son's life. Help me to trust your design."

 

Stay tuned.

Removing the Roots

Some time ago I toured a friend's garden that she inherited when she bought the house of an avid gardener. My friend was enchanted by the flowers that marched through her garden from spring to fall. Just days before my tour, she attacked the weeds that were gobbling her garden. In an hour, she had decapitated most of the weeds with a weed-eater. It looked great--temporarily. This neophyte gardener didn't know that most weeds grow lustily from any roots left in the ground. Getting the root is dirty work--that's why I have broken and blackened fingernails all summer long!

The weeds in life must also be uprooted or they will continue to stifle our growth. A former childhood friend periodically calls me. On one of these calls, Herb [not his true name] explained to me that at the height of an alcohol-induced argument with his father, he had bellowed: "And you bought me right-handed golf clubs when I was a kid!" What did Herb mean? Herb is left-handed. He views the purchase of those right-handed golf clubs as a symbol of his dad's careless concern. Herb reasons, "If he had truly loved me, he would have known that I needed left-handed clubs." The author of Hebrews warns: "See to it that no one misses the grace of God and that no bitter root grows up to cause trouble and defile many." (12:15). A bitter root has been tunneling and spreading in Herb's life for over fifty years. It has stolen the nutrients he needs to grow into a healthy human being. It has choked his ability to experience God's love. He lives a lonely, alcohol-dependent life largely because he has not removed that poisonous root. 

Which root is easier to remove--a two-year old child's naughty insistence on flinging his food across the bow of your dinner table or a seventeen year-old's haughty refusal to help at home? If parents overlook this sprouting weed: "Oh, but isn't he cute?”, they won't think the mature weed is cute at all: "Just try to make me clean my room!" Now the parents have a lusty weed whose poisonous roots have spread throughout this young rebel's life, causing him to be alienated from his family, arrested for underage drinking, kicked off his soccer team. So many weed seeds have been allowed to sprout and grow in the soil of his life that they won't be uprooted without blistered hands.

Is That a Weed?

Weeding is a tricky business because weeds mimic good plants. Weeds in the older versions of the Bible were called “tares”—probably a ryegrass known as darnel. Seedling darnel is almost impossible to distinguish from seedling wheat. Once established, these weeds are nearly intractable. Even sieving the grain to remove their seeds is ineffective because they are the same size as the wheat seeds. Thus, these seeds are milled with the wheat seeds, creating bitter bread.

Life’s weeds also mimic healthy growth. For example, we should nurture our bodies with nutritious food, regular rest, consistent exercise. But a legitimate concern for our health can become a greedy, nutrient-sucking weed, which suffocates our search for life:

 

  Our efforts at physical perfection offer us tangible solutions to fix what ails us -- the newest gym, the latest diet, hip fashions, a nip or tuck here or there. These cures require effort, energy, and money, but actually enable us to avoid the tedious and scary prospect of searching inward. They make us feel alive, but keep us from looking into the recesses of our soul.

As the weed of physical perfection matures, we deceive ourselves by calling it "discipline" or "keeping a trim figure" or "staying in shape." But the bitter seeds remain: "We may look better and be healthier than ever, but continue to feel just as awful."

Some time ago I planted a packet of coneflower seeds. Nothing sprouted for several weeks. Was it bad seed? Finally a few green leaves poked through the soil. Were they weeds? I was on the verge of executing them when I noticed a similarity to coneflower leaves. Still unsure, I let them grow. In another week, I joyously recognized about a dozen seedling coneflowers.

What is sprouting in my heart? Is it the worship of physical health or the desire to care for my God-given body? Is it a love of money or the desire to be a faithful steward? What is sprouting in my child's life? Are her testy responses merely the normal struggle for independence or is it the weed of rebellion? My challenge is to recognize, then remove true weeds before they mature and drop their horde of punishing seeds into my life.

Unfortunately, my capacity for self-deception is immense. Even though my vision is 20/20 when it comes to a friend's obsession with his leisure, my vision is about 20/2,000,000 when it comes to my own bossy argumentativeness. Therefore, I must humbly and continually ask God to see with his eyes:

Search me, O God, and know my heart;

  test me and know my anxious thoughts.

See if there is any offensive way in me,

 and lead me in the way everlasting. (Ps.139)

 

Choking Weeds: The Weed of Greed

Jesus also said that the weed of greed (the deceitfulness of wealth) would strangle my garden. A number of years ago I received a modest windfall of money from a business investment. Following my father's model, I invested most of it in a diversity of stocks—depending on my father, an investment letter, and the internet for financial advice. At first, I enjoyed the challenge of nurturing those investments. But at some point, this task became choked with weeds. Each time I logged on to my computer I would scrutinize stock prices and news. I would get excited when my stocks went up -- "Wow! I made $500 today" -- and discouraged when they went down -- "Why did he recommend that stock?!" And then I would churn with indecision: "Should I sell? Should I buy?”

Was it wrong for me to research and track my investments? Not at all. But at some point weeds had sprouted and taken over, entangling my heart with thoughts of making the most money. In the Old Testament economy God limited his people’s pursuit of financial gain. Work on the Sabbath was forbidden. Their yearly calendar included several weeks of worship festivals in Jerusalem. Every seventh year they grew no crops to rest the land (and themselves). Newlyweds were given a one-year honeymoon! Lenders charged no interest. And land titles reverted to the original owners on the Jubilee (every 50th year). Meditating on these policies, I was reminded that God cares more about the value of my soul than the value of my stocks. As a result, I shifted some money to investments that I don't need to watch regularly. I limited how often I check stock prices. I invested in blue chip companies that don't soar or sink in a few hours of trading. Will I make less money? Possibly. Will I have money to live securely in retirement? Only God knows. But I do know that I have knocked back the weed of greed, giving my soul room to grow.

Uprooting the Worry Weed

We worriers feed life-sucking weeds by nurturing tomorrow's troubles. A mother might fret over her daughter's future: "My fourteen year-old is being courted by a boy who doesn't live in a Christian home. What if they become steadies? What if he pressures her to have sex? What if they are forced to get married? What if the marriage doesn’t last? My grandchild will grow up in a broken home!"

Jesus taught that a "today" focus will wilt our worries: "Do not worry about tomorrow, tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." The soil of our lives has limited nutrients. The challenge forthe mother of this teenage girl is to channel the sap of her life into today's opportunities -- "What needs does my daughter have today? What book on dating could we read together? What could I share with her from my morning Bible study?” Annie Dillard calls "today", "time's live skin." Today is our only contact with alive time. It is the only time in which we can enjoy a friendship, commune with God, go for a walk, read a book with our child, plan for my family's needs. When we feed tomorrow's troubles, we choke today’s tasks.

Fighting weeds is exhausting. But late summer is not the time to ease up on our toughest and most persistent enemy--who is vigorously birthing thousands of seeds/soldiers
for next year's battles. Execute those worry weeds today and you will reap a harvest of peace tomorrow.