Each summer, our family fights to keep the gravel driveway from being consumed by some really tenacious grass! You'd think that a well-used driveway wouldn't have this problem, especially since my husband and I drive our vehicles over the rocks several times a day, crushing the tiny green blades each time.Wyatt further tramples the volunteer weeds as he plays for hours each day with his trucks, digger, bulldozer, and tricycle.
Nothing should be growing in these rocks.
But, despite the odds, there is grass aplenty in my driveway--small pale-green tufts; large, deeply rooted circles; and long green streamers that have snaked across the wide rocky expanse. My mother even commented last week about the huge clumps that have not only taken root but have also gone to seed right by the carport.
But, despite the odds, there is grass aplenty in my driveway--small pale-green tufts; large, deeply rooted circles; and long green streamers that have snaked across the wide rocky expanse. My mother even commented last week about the huge clumps that have not only taken root but have also gone to seed right by the carport.
So, today, I decided to weed the driveway close to the house because there's nothing organic about the elixir my husband would spray to get this job done. As you can tell by the photo, Wyatt, of course, was right in the middle of the sweaty project. He contributed the heavy equipment to a job that only needed a good pincher grip and a few mighty tugs.
"May I help, mommy?"
"Sure. Pull up anything in the rocks."
"Look! I have a nice weed!"
I laughed. I don't consider any weed to be "nice." But when he repeated the phrase a few minutes later, it sunk in a bit deeper.
How many "weeds" in my spiritual life do I consider "nice weeds"?
Small outbursts of anger after a long day with the kids--to be expected. A critical attitude toward my spouse--well, he should have done a better job. Lack of focus in worship--everybody's mind wanders.
And so it goes, my allowing those "nice weeds" to grow as I rationalize their existence in my life. Then, suddenly, I can't see the path I'm supposed to walk for the weeds.
Oh Lord, help me not to excuse the weeds in my life but to uproot them before they control my steps and conceal the path to you.
Just one weed, and just one more. Pretty soon we're overrun. Great picture. Convicting.
ReplyDeleteHi, I've read about four or five of your recent posts. Couldn't put your blog down. I love the way you express your heart, so honest and so transparent. No window dressing. Truth is, I see a bit of myself in you when I was your age. I'm 56 now, I figure you are half my age...
ReplyDeleteThere were also days when I was so tired. But at least over here, we get help. Poor girls from the country make a living by hiring themselves out as house helpers... willing to live in with the family, for a small pay, plus meals and a bed. It works fine with most households. Some families have about four or five of those country girls -- to help with the laundry, the kitchen, the cleaning, as a nanny...whatever needs to be done.
So I can just imagine how it must be with you -- with 8 month old twins, and a two year old boy. Plus all the essays to read, and grade, and the housework.
I have prayed for your three requests, prayed while reading. Prayed for DOug's eye to heal completely, for Liza to pass the bar, and for you to finish your grades, and get enough rest.
It's the 25th already here, and I know it's still the 24th over there. I have prayed that you will meet your deadline, and have the extra grace required to do the job well.
Love
Lidj