The water drenches the ground and the weeds, unknowingly, soak up, fill up their roots with the precious desert commodity. With roots full and ground moist, one simple tug rids our land of the nuisance. In the past, I dug, ripped leaves, frustrated by the roots that stuck hard in the ground, mocking my kneeling.
In my life as well. A part of me, grumpy fretting anxious flaw, revealed in the mirror. Recognizing it as a weed, sown amongst the wheat, I began to dig, pull with passion, only to hold the leaves in my hand, root in tact, laughingly ready to rear its head over and over.
Living water, the Word of God, soaks down to the root of the weeds. Saturating daily, when the weed I spot, a simple tug of recognition and repentance brings the dangling pest, roots and all, out of my garden.
Weeding in the drizzle yesterday, back bent, heart humbled ... I learned from the master gardener.
And so the count of thankfulness continues, this time with weed lessons learned
rain that pelts and the Word that drenches
the ease at which the baby weeds pull softly from the dirt leaving no hole of remorse
the light of His love that reveals the sins as they creep in slowly, just starting to take root
joy filled success when the overgrown nasty relinquishes its rights on the land and struggles free swinging roots and all in my hand
knowing that the overgrown sins in my heart can be pulled with strength and ease as I soak in His Word and promises.
little hands that pull with me, sharing, giggling, learning alongside
teaching the next generation the ways of the master gardener in our lives
a clean patch of earth and heart, ready to plant seed for harvest