Stubborn Roots - by Elizabeth Reynolds

It was one of those rare phases I sometimes have where I actually manage to spend some time out in the garden. I couldn’t look at the size of those weeds anymore. Some of them were growing to a height of half my body! Well, no more! It was time to get rid of them. And not a moment too soon. (Although perhaps a few moments (months) too late!)

I came across one particular weed that was standing tall and proud, looking out over the rest of the garden like it owned the place. Its stem had to be a good centimetre in diameter. Its broad leaves luscious, thick and thriving. With my gardening-gloved hand, I reached in, low to the ground, around its stem. One gentle tug, and I felt not even an inkling of a movement. Most weeds in my garden, if the soil’s soft, tend to wriggle and lift when I apply the gentle tug, albeit reluctantly. But not this one. This little blighter was firmly cemented into the ground. It was part of the ground. It had built its house there and was set for a long happy life. It did own the place.

But I knew. I knew it had no place in my garden. So I did not give up. I wriggled and tugged a little more, gently heaving at different angles and of course bits of the soil around its stem had to move aside while I did so. (It has to be gentle, you see, because if you yank too hard and too fast, the stem will snap and then you have no hope of removal from pulling, since there’s now no longer anything above the surface to grab hold of.)

Anyway, this leafy invader was still not budging. It was time to involve some tools. I left and came back with my small garden fork. I proceeded to poke and prod at the surrounding ground near the base of the stem to break it up, expose a little more of the thick stem of the weed. Then I grabbed the stem again, gave a gentle wriggle and a tug. Still zero movement. And I mean zero. Not even the hint of a suggestion of a remote sense of movement.

I had to dig more. And more and more, until I had made a bit of a crater in the ground around the stem of the weed. Ahh… now some movement! But I could feel the stubborn grip the roots still had in the ground. I left, and came back with my trowel and dug more. Actual full digging this time, not just a little poking and prodding. I dug boldly into the soil, scooping great chunks of ground away from the site.

I tried pulling the weed with one hand, while prodding and digging with the other to release a few roots at a time. I scooped and scraped the loose soil away from the hole and tried pulling again. The weed was still hanging on. Still had a firm clutch on the depths of the soil. I dug more. And more and more until I had a huge ugly pit in my front garden. With a tall, strong, menacing weed standing tall in the centre of it.

I went in, both hands, clasped around the stem tightly, my feet and legs pushing against the earth, my arms fighting against these roots’ wicked hold they had on the ground. I could feel it, giving – slightly, let go, dug some more. More and more until part of the big bulk of the root system was exposed – out in the open air. It must have known now, that it was done for. I grabbed hold again and pulled and pulled. And pulled and pulled and pulled and pulled, and all of a sudden, I felt it give, my body fell backwards.

I’m lying on my back in the garden with the humungous monster of a weed in my hands. Grains of dirt sprinkling over me.

I’m exhausted. My muscles are hurting. But I look at the weed in my hands, and I have it! Roots and all. I look at the place in the ground where it used to be. And there’s a huge ugly hole there. A giant cavity left open, gaping. If the ground was a living thing itself, it would surely be screaming in pain. I can’t help but think of that hole as a wound. A deep, nasty, painful wound. And all because I allowed that weed to grow so big.

I thought of wounds if our lives, and I thought of the weed as sin, growing and taking root in our lives. Taking over. Acting as though it owns the place. But while it’s there, there’s no visible wound yet. There is no pain just yet. No pulling, no tugging, no gaping holes… everything seems fine!

A weed is green. It’s leafy, it’s luscious. Can’t it just stay in the garden? What harm’s it actually doing? Well, it does four main things to harm your garden.

 1.     Weeds steel. They rob the nutrients and water from the ground that your desired plants need to grow to their full flourishing potential.

2.     Weeds are a favoured home for garden pests. Nice little bug-sized Airbnb locations and your plants are the local ‘restaurants and cafes’!

3.     Weeds take up space. They crowd out the healthy plants and so again, they can’t flourish to their full potential. They’re like an annoying houseguest who doesn’t have regular hygiene habits, as some weeds even secrete harmful chemicals!

4.     Lastly, if weeds are allowed to grow big enough, they create shade for surrounding parts of the garden, and hog the sunlight.

So they may be green and leafy, giving off the impression of a garden-like environment. But they must go. Sin might give the impression of being okay, being good, being harmless. But if you want a flourishing, healthy, productive and fruitful life, it must go.

But who is the gardener? Who is the one with the fork and trowel? Digging away, scooping, scraping… Well, it’s God, to be frank. Only God can do that. Only an outside intervention can get rid of this weed. In the same way, only God can come and deal with your sin. Especially if it has been allowed to grow and take hold of the inner depths of the soil of your life.

Without a gardener, weeds will grow, spread, become more and more powerful. Without God, sin will run rampant. We may be able to make good decisions in certain moments to stop a sin creeping in in the first place, but it is only through the power of Jesus and His dominion over sin that we can do that. If you find you have left sin unchecked for a while, you will need to ask the Great Gardener to come and help you get it out. But be ready. It may cause a big wound at first. Where sin has been allowed to grip different areas of your life, there may be some gouging required. And then a hole left afterwards. And what do we do with that ugly wound? We can allow the Gardener to heal us.

Naturally, after I had removed the weed from my garden, I replaced all the soil into the hole, flatted it out, and interestingly, the soil then felt softer in that spot, and it was now more aerated, ready for planting something new and healthy. (Although we might need to mix in a bit of fertiliser or something.)

Another important thing to note, is that a day or so later, the weed was completely dead, dry and withered. Without being connected to the life and nutrients of the soil, it dies and is powerless. Without sin being latched onto your life, similarly, it dies, shrivels up, has no power anymore.

So what is an area of your life where sin might be growing? Do a metaphorical ‘walk’ around your garden and check for weeds. Don’t let it get a stronger hold and position in your life. Pray what David prayed, “Keep your servant also from wilful sins; may they not rule over me.” Psalm 19:13

Unfortunately, it may cause some pain of a kind, but just like a gardener cares for and wants the best for the garden, God deeply cares for us and wants us to have a flourishing life!