Firmly But Gently

This past Fourth of July weekend, I spent some time in my grandparent’s farm, in Midland, Texas. This is not a huge farm, but it is big enough to keep them busy, strong, and healthy. They have an old barn that houses a couple of cows, horses, and a few goats. There are also chickens and roosters that find their way in during bad weather.

I had recently lost my job and was feeling down and out, and what better way than to spend some time with grandparents who know how to spoil you? My grandfather, or Papa, gives me the best advice on how to deal with people at work, and will always slip some money in my hand, no matter how old I am. My Nana is very comforting when she listens to all my worldly adventures. Sometimes she smiles in agreement, and other times she nods in concern.

This weekend, however, the comfort came from cleaning out my grandmother’s marigold flower garden, as weird as this may seem. I spent time pulling weeds in front of that old barn. Nana hadn’t cleaned it out all summer, and it really needed some attention.

The weeds there were no ordinary weeds. They were the ones that have the goat heads, and foxtail, weeds that are prickly and both are very sharp, causing anyone who steps on them great discomfort, pain, and sometimes, an allergic reaction.

These weeds were long and as they intertwined with the healthy marigolds, they were sticking to the beautiful flowers, tearing the petals off as I pulled the weeds. They were in between, on the sides, and sprouting everywhere.

At one point, I looked at my left hand as I held the weeds I was pulling and I looked at what a green, robust, and in a way, a pretty bouquet of weeds I had gathered. I even thought to myself, “Wow! I can bring these into the house and put them in a beautiful vase and arrange them to look like a rare flower arrangement.”

As I began to pull the weeds, I saw many mosquitos flying around, low, and hard to detect most of the time. The rains had also brought many ants out of their colony to explore and just roam around. I knew it was a matter of time before I got bit and stung.

I hesitated to dig and stretch my hands in between the flowers, to pull the weeds from the root. My imagination was running around with all the insects my hand could encounter as I buried it in the mix. A few times I tried pulling from the top only to find that the weed would snap off, leaving the root to grow and multiply.

It was then, in the flower bed, on a warm Sunday morning, in between the stinging weeds, mosquitos and ants that I heard a voice whisper, “Go deeper…” Without hesitation, I trusted.

Then I began to pull them from the root, digging in between the tall mixture of flowers and weeds, low to the ground. Again, I heard a voice saying, “Deeper…”

And again, “Pull firmly but gently…” and then as I listened and was obedient, the root would come up with the weeds. Sometimes I was able to feel the release of the root from the soil.

As I kept pulling, it was laid in my heart that weeds are like my depression and harmful ways… if you allow them to grow, they will grow everywhere.

Depression and harmful thoughts will grow in between the beautiful things about us.

They will grow all around us.

They will grow within us.

They will intertwine with the good.

They will stick and tear into the blessings.

I learned that I must constantly pull the harmful out of my heart, by the root, not just the surface where people can’t see it anymore. And it has to be done firmly but gently.

And you can trust God when He says “Go deeper…” “More…” “Pull firmly but gently…”

Depression is like those weeds, they may look harmless from a distance, but when not addressed, they are sharp and can cause anyone who steps on them discomfort and pain, and even strong allergic reactions.

At one point, I had a handful of weeds and I thought I could make them look exotic if I placed them in a beautiful vase inside our home, which is exactly what I did with my harmful ways many times. I made it look appealing, not so bad… and if I dressed it up enough, I could make it look enticing. So much so that I thought it was ok to bring it in my home, for my family to live with; to look at; to smell; ingest; and perhaps one day, to even grow themselves.

And in the process, only He could keep me from being stung or bitten or pricked by my surroundings. Not one creepy crawler crept on my arm as I stuck my hand into what I couldn’t see. Not one mosquito bite. Not one ant crawled on my feet. Not one sticker poked me while I was pulling. He was faithful when I couldn’t see.

And so, I continued to pull the weeds, as I cried. Only God would pursue me early in the morning, in the dirt, pulling weeds. Only He would teach me about my depression and harmful ways that takes root in my heart, and how, in the past, I have invited it into my home. Only He could heal me, firmly but gently.

Many times I wanted to be done and go back into my grandmothers cool living room, but as soon as I would throw away the weeds and come back to the flower bed, I saw more weeds that needed to come up, and I would get in there again, until I pulled them all.

This is the heart that God wants to see in me… getting all the weeds out, and not hear me settle for “it's good enough."

And I smiled as I looked at the marigold flower bed, clean of prickly weeds. And I could feel a sense of release in my own pain.

The flowers did not look so crowded, and the water ran abundantly.

As I drove home that Monday morning, I still didn’t have a job, but I had perspective and peace. My grandparents are full of wisdom and their old barn full of Heavenly mystery.