Weeds and Flowers

Jesus told a story in which a landowner planted good wheat in his field, but at night an enemy came and planted tares.  Most of us don't grow wheat and the word "tare" doesn't mean much.  Maybe the best way for us city-dwellers to look at this story is to suggest that we planted good flowers one Memorial Day Weekend, and somebody who doesn't like us came and planted weeds in the middle of our beautiful array of colors.

Let me tell you what I know about weeds.  First, I know that I hate them.  Second, I know that no one really has to come and plant them in my field (they simply appear by magic).  Also, I know that they have big thick roots.  While it is easy to accidentally remove a flower with my little spade, some weeds cannot be removed without a backhoe.  I also know that I don't have to water my weeds for them to grow in strength.  They are not weak and dependent like flowers, but are strong and persistent.  I also know that sometimes they disguise themselves as flowers, and because they look so pretty, I don't remove them.  Sometimes, however, this little deceit on their part makes me remove flowers that I think are weeds.  

Anyway, weeds are strong and independent.  They don't require pampering.  They have to be removed at the root if you want them to stay away, but they make sure that that is not an easy chore.  They are also sneaky.

But here's what struck me the other day as I was weeding, and I think it looks a great deal like the weeds that are in the flower bed of my heart: weeds are selfish.

I say this because they just jump anywhere in the dirt that they feel like going.  They don't care if there is grass or flowers or shrubs--weeds go wherever they like.  While flowers tend to stay right where I put them (they might grow upward if I am lucky), weeds like to go right where they are not supposed to be.  They see the place in the dirt where I have planted the pretty flowers and they say, "I want to live there."  And when they tell the flowers to move, they don't say "Please."

So, as I see it, it is selfish weeds that destroy the beauty of a physical garden.  And in the beautiful spiritual garden that God has planted in my life, it is usually weeds that destroy God's desire for the landscape of my heart.

This summer I have had to pull weeds almost every day.  When I don't pull them, they take over.  If the pretty flowers that also live there do not die, they are at the very least, hidden.

I also need to pull the selfishness out of the spiritual garden of my heart every day.  If I don't, I risk hiding the beauty that God has put there, if not destroying it all together.

Selfishness is a weed.  It appears out of nowhere, needs no sustenance to survive, and takes whatever it wants.  The question then is, "Will I let it destroy my garden?  Or will I strive to pull it out of the roots of my life each and every day?" 

If I care about being spiritually beautiful, I will choose the latter.