On my latest hymnal page, pulling weeds was the theme. The header reads “Though my weeds be large, yet will I praise my God.” The large weeds are a metaphor for all those nasty things in our lives that we would rather pull. While my life is extraordinarily rich and dreamy at this moment, there are always habits, decisions, relationships that I could weed. My garden is in constant need of grooming.
It is interesting how weeds have become a theme in my life. As a child, my job was to pull the weeds in our lawn. Mind you, we had fescue grass growing in western Kansas. I worked for hours pulling weeds, all the while pretending not to enjoy the work. That same lawn that I once tediously groomed is now thriving buffalo grass which is natural to the area. My parents made a wise choice to let what naturally spreads in that region to become their lawn grass. I still find myself pulling a weed or two when I visit though.
Although my yard is a poor reflection of my enjoyment of pulling weeds, it does not reduce the pleasure I receive from pulling, feeling the earth ground into my bare hands, feeling the stiffness in my slightly arthritic hands as they are forced to grip something small and strong, feeling the resistance of the roots as I pull. Perhaps it is nostalgia that carries me along. Perhaps the textures and smells draw me back. Perhaps an inherent love of the earth has been programmed into my brain by my very creative God.
Whatever it is, thank you, Lord.