This afternoon I looked out in the yard and saw a bunch of weeds. It seems every time we mow, the weeds just pop back up the next day. Determined to alleviate the problem, I grabbed a dinosaur step stool and an old shoe box. For a while, and by a while I mean five minutes, my children we happy to offer their assistance. Five grand minutes later, I was on my journey alone. My mind became very still and quiet. I was finally alone with my thoughts and the weeds.
I began to recall the book study I am working through, Intimate Issues, and the section where the authors addressed the concept of a mental garden and the weeds and flowers within. In this book, the weeds are the lies and untruths we believe about ourselves as a person and our outlook on intimacy. As much as I tried, I never had much luck with the mental imagery needed to visualize me pulling the weeds.The book came alive to me today as I sat stooped over these prickly invaders.
My thoughts went back to when my children were helping me. In my life, there have been and will be those who are willing to come alongside me and accompany me in my journey. Then, some will become bored or challenged and walk away. As I worked diligently, I heard my husband approaching my masterpiece. I looked up with pride in my eyes and asked what he thought. He said, "Looks like two weeks more work." He didn't mean to but his discouraged me still. Many won't recognize the progress we have made at eradicating the weeds in our lives. The changes we are making are inside of us. It isn't always evident from the outside.
So, I carried on, determined still that I would show him that I could do two weeks work in one day. As I pulled and ripped, I thought about how it is more desirable to pull out the large weeds. It shows more progress much quicker. The problem with that logic is that there are many smaller weeds still left behind. Though these little weeds take more time and detailed attention, removing them yields a truly clean yard. I noticed that if I pulled on a weed too quickly and carelessly, I broke off the tops and left the roots in the ground. Roots left in the ground grow back to be bigger and stronger weeds. When I took my time, I could twist the deep, large roots and guide them gently to the surface, in tact. I learned how to pull the ever delicate roots, of the very small weeds, up and out in one piece. As I yanked out the roots, I often pulled up more than roots. Rocks, grass, and bugs would come up with the roots. As I remove the lies and other weeds in my spiritual garden, I bring up much more than just weeds and roots. Hurt feelings, forgotten memories, and lost time come back to me as I sort through the good and bad found in my garden.
My back began to ache as I ooched around the yard and my hands looked less than manicured. My back aches still and my fingernails are covered in mud. When we dig in, we need to be prepared that our hands are going to get dirty and its probably going to hurt a bit and maybe even for a while.
What was revealed to me today, as I worked in the yard, was eye-opening. As I battled the milk thistle and the sticker burrs, I was winning a war in my mind and heart. I was able to see the work I had yet to do inside of me. I learned that it was time to get my hands dirty. The time has come to gently weed out the delicate roots, grab hold and twist the deep seated roots, and take my time as I go. As much as I would like to have done two weeks work in one day, it was not what is best for me or my garden. I need to invest the time and do it right completely.
As I finished up a days work, my husband rejoined me. He chuckled at how much time I had given to this activity. He asked with a smirk, "Is this therapeutic?" I grinned from ear to ear, "Yes, in fact it has been."
