In the glistening sun, I see it, peeking out from the grass. The ugliness declared in all of its form. A disgusting, thorn filled weed.
I’ve really got to pick those evil, prickly weeds before they spread, I think as I wipe my brow of sweat from the bright brilliance that has brought us an unremarkable warm season.
- A few weeks later I stand at the same precipice. After failing to pull the weeds out of my garden I find myself facing a multiplied amount of sticker bushes. Yet I feel they are Not capable of extraction, simply left to breed, because I didn’t pull it out when I should have.
Yet I’m so tired, Lord, so very tired.
So, Who can clear the debris if I’m not able?
I just can’t. I mean after being a wife, mom, and work, work work, when do I have time to pull out all of the weeds?
I look up and see the same strong Son making Himself known to my soft blue eyes saying, “I will make it well, I will pull the weeds.”
But how? They are too high, multiplied, and are speaking to one another and soon they will overtake me? How can this burden dissipate?
The Voice continues to Speak:
Because It Will. It just Will.
Have Faith, my child, trust that I will send you what you need to weed out the ugliness and plant the plentifulness I intend for your life.
Please weed out the ugliness because I just can’t. I simply can’t.
The weeds fester on.
They grow and multiply.
Time passes on, as I’ve forgotten about the pests yet unrest has grown in my soul, in my spirit, in my journey.
Weeks later, a day presses on my spirit that requests my strength, growth, and a possibility for something that might transpire even through the weeds.
Turmoil bound, I wander into my garden of peace and tranquility and am met by a thousand peony’s who have made their appearance, and a couple hundred lily’s; yet to my disappointment a million thistle bound weeds that have overtaken my garden of Peace and Loveliness.
In fervor, I recall asking for these weeds to be pulled, gone, far from my safe haven of trust, honor, and beauty. Yet they were still there, multiplying in record speed.
I shake my head in frustration and grab my greatest nemesis to come meet me in a dark room; Insecurity.
It meets me there and tells me I am not enough. That rejection comes in waves, especially when I feel safe. Darkness tells me that the thorns on the green weeds are of my doing. I wasn’t enough so now it prickles all who touch, to the point of a pain that makes them want to never come back. To me.
Insecurity reminds me that rejection has come in waves throughout my life, especially when I start to feel safe. I am not enough so now I prickle all who touch me, to the point of a pain that makes them want to never come back. To me.
So, I do what I do best. I run.
In hiding, I grab my phone, my drink, and my vape thing that makes me feel better in times of duress. I find myself in my safe haven of a room where there are no thistles, no weeds, and no monsters to remind me that I’m not good enough.
Reaching for my contact with God’s people, my phone, I reach out to her… a stranger who had sent me her number in a time of need. Someone I’ve met once, yet who God had predestined me to know a million stars ago.
She answers. My voice quivers.
Deeply taking her where I am at in my pit of darkness, I hold my emotion until the part of feeling rejected. That is where I completely lose it. For that is my thing. Rejection, abandonment, loss, loss, and more loss.
She cups my tears and tells me more of her tale. See, I had met her on a big ‘ole screen months prior telling the three thousand people who attend Journey Church that she has suffered many of the toils that I have. That day in early spring, where the wind was still deep and the frost continued to bite I took in each and every one of her words. That she had been healed from all of the demons that haunted her and she had created a home to help others in such situations. A miracle indeed had taken place in this beautiful woman who I now knew because she was brave enough. To share her story.
Oddly enough, I found out, she knew me too, as she had read my book of overcoming the tragedy of losing a baby and my tale of God bringing me back despite the bleakest of possibilities because I shared my story.
We were suddenly kindred spirits God knew needed each other in His perfect timing.
“Don’t feed your weeds of insecurity. Know that Jesus is working hard in you to bring His greatness. In that, you are being hit with a loss from the past that manifests itself now.” She bellows into the waves that brought us together as the sun finally decided to set.
Silence on the line because I was sobbing.
“You are good enough. You are plenty. Stop feeding the ugly weeds in your life. STOP giving them life. The people God has brought into your life will rally around you, not defy you. They won’t forsake you, for with God who is against us?”
More tears. An open heart reaching out in a form of surrender I ask God to heal the sad in me that assumes the worst in people who are invested in my life.
We pray and I calm realizing that I had been feeding the ugly green prickly despicable weeds with my fear, doubt, and speculation of loss.
I acquiesce to what I know is True even though it’s almost impossible to believe.
An hour later I walk into my garden and the weeds are magically gone.
Because an hour earlier my husband had ripped them all out, not a single one left to fester.
What we choose to allow to grow will, yet if we give our all and fixate on the strength that will pull it out, zap our insecurity and turmoil from life, the glory will come. It just will, it has no choice.
Tonight, I thank my God who has sent His army once again to lift me up.
To help me defy impossible odds, and overcome the most unthinkable of circumstances.
What we feed becomes the growth within us, so let that be the Truth, the Word, and Grace be our beauty we grow.