Naming My Weeds

Well, as day #3 of my hard push to get the weeds out of the terraces begins, I find myself not thinking about the junk that others throw on you, as I expected while roofers were working overhead (although I am heartbroken over the loss of my very promising tomato plant).

Instead, I am once again introspective about the state of my heart as I think of these terraces as a metaphor for my spiritual state.

Here's what I got done on Day 1:

Maia is my helper today, as Xander is on a sleepover. Otherwise, she'd still be in bed.

Here's what I got done on Day 2:

And here's what I have to do today:

Well, I don't plan to do the whole strip all the way across. This is the longest of the terraces, and I plan to take 3 days to finish it.

As I was pulling weeds today, I was noticing that different weeds have different mechanisms in place for survival.

Some, like this creeping something or other, which I'm going to call Insecurity, put down one main root, then send out runners in all directions. They lay low, and are almost undetectable, then one day you look and they've completely obscured the ground, a bush, or choked another plant:

This section of rocks is all covered in creeping Insecurity. It's even flowering in some places.

Others, like crab grass (which fittingly, I'm going to think of as Bad Attitude), can make the nice grass in your lawn (MY lawn doesn't have much nice grass, but I'm sure yours is much nicer), look just plain ugly. It sprawls every which way, spreading out on the ground and then putting out seed heads and re-seeding itself quickly.

Sometimes it plants itself in the midst of a healthy plant, like this:

You can't even see the original bush here. This is what it looked like after I pulled out all the weeds:

It was hard to see the difference between the shoots of the bush and shoots of the weed. I pulled a lot of the bush out as I ripped out the weeds. God's a WAY better gardener than I am (after all, things GROW in his Garden- intentionally), and I'm reminded of the story in the Bible about the wheat and the weeds...

Jesus told them another parable: "The kingdom of heaven is like a man who sowed good seed in his field. But while everyone was sleeping, his enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat, and went away. When the wheat sprouted and formed heads, then the weeds also appeared.

"The owner's servants came to him and said, 'Sir, didn't you sow good seed in your field? Where then did the weeds come from?'

" 'An enemy did this,' he replied.
"The servants asked him, 'Do you want us to go and pull them up?'

" 'No,' he answered, 'because while you are pulling the weeds, you may root up the wheat with them. Let both grow together until the harvest. At that time I will tell the harvesters: First collect the weeds and tie them in bundles to be burned; then gather the wheat and bring it into my barn.' " (Mt. 13:24-30)

Crab grass (Bad Attitude) it probably the most popular weed on my terraces. At least it was today. Every terrace seems to have its own identity... I'm not sure what to make of that. Anyway, my attitude has clearly colored everything I've felt or experienced lately. I'm not usually a negative person, but I'm kind of cynical sometimes, and I learned a long time ago that my propensity for sarcasm is hurtful and not exactly appreciated by some in my social circle.

This plant- some kind of thistle, but I can grasp it and pull it out with my gloves on- milks as it is broken. I don't know why, but it's kind of weird.

So back to that original plant I referenced earlier- here's a baby one (babies are always cuter):

This is what filled the terraces when we first arrived. This is the plant we took 2 summers to kill off. It doesn't look that threatening here, does it? It's not. But it does get rather large if left to itself. So what's my pet name for this plant? My Identity. Yes, it's aggressive. Yes, it can get bigger than it should and run away from it's borders. But it's my identity. It was planted long ago, it has roots that run deeper than the weeds all around it because it goes deeper than that landscape fabric.

But blessed is the man who trusts in the LORD,
whose confidence is in him.

He will be like a tree planted by the water
that sends out its roots by the stream.
It does not fear when heat comes;
its leaves are always green.
It has no worries in a year of drought
and never fails to bear fruit.

So for now, I'm leaving the remnants. When I run across this bush in a place that looks right (not along the edges), I'm letting it live. So my work for today looks like this:

Along the way, I could see some of the junk left from former years of work. Sometimes I ran across a stump of something that doesn't live there anymore.

I can't pull them out, and can't knock them down any farther. Are they a symbol of a stronghold that has been conquered or a dream that has died? Well, it could be either. Depends on whether I'm feeling melancholy or victorious.

It's hard work, but at least I don't have these guys' job!