Weeding

Monday was hot and muggy. It rained the night before. Hard. So everything was soaked and soggy. Kristen was here and rocking at the whole aunt-thing. Seriously, she and Lyla are besties. When they were playing together Monday morning, I saw a rare opportunity and I took it... A chance to tackle the weeds, uninterrupted. They were getting out of control, so I put on some gloves and started pulling. They were worse than I had originally thought. They were everywhere... Distracting from the good plants and stealing precious nutrients like little, spikey bandits. So I dug. And pulled. And dug. And sweat. A lot. And I found that with the rain the night before, and the right amount of digging, I could get them up and out quicker and easier than ever before. Funny how even nasty, pokey weeds can get me thinking... 

I've been a bit of a butt lately... As a wife, mama and friend. I've had to apologize to some of the people I love the most. I have had some nasty weeds growing in my heart... Comparison. Resentment. Pride. They take away from the good that is in me and they grow deeper and deeper if left unattended. They can hurt those around me and threaten to steal my joy. And they won't just go away on their own. They've got to be recognized and wrestled with... And even then, these dang weeds just keep coming back. I dig and pull and sweat and dig and they just pop right back up... Slow at first, so I don't even notice them until they are, once again, out of control. If I want them gone forever, I have to be on them constantly, and even then, others will grow in their place... 

So, I'm weeding... In more ways than one. I'm weeding my flower gardens around the house, and I'm doing a little weeding on my heart. I'm digging deep and pulling out the comparison, the thistles and the pride... I'm working on replacing them with beauty... With contentment and gratitude.

If there's only one thing people learn from this blog it is this... That grace is abundant. That it meets us when we are buried in the weeds and helps us dig out, one thistle at a time. It restores brokenness and heals our hurts. It patches up relationships when we act like butts. It makes things right again. So, this week I'm basking in some serious grace. I'm working on the weeds and hoping to grow more and more beauty in their place.