my garden

this isn't mine, but it was given to me in a vision so clear.

i survey my garden; what i see is that the soil of my heart is filled and covered with a multitude of colors. i want to show Him how beautiful it is but i leave him standing there because my eyes are continually drawn to the weeds that weave their way between the fruits of my labor. sometimes they blend in, sometimes they are visibly choking the life from the other plants as they sprout faster and quicker and absorb all the light.

not wanting him to see it that way for it seems to root in neglect, i go to work. i grab the weeds that i can see and rip them from the soil. unfortunately, they are anchored well and so the roots remain. others i see, i get a solid grip at the base and remove the weed by its roots. i see however the visible damage on the roots, evidence that remnants remain locked in the dirt.

He walks over to me and i try to get him to wait longer, to stand back. he inquires, "do you need help?" i scoff, "no! i've got this! see...!" He takes the weeds and silently approaches my garden, much to my chagrin.

screams, pleads, and yells do no good.

to my horror he squats down and begins to dig in the soil. slowly, with care, the digs up around a weed. deeper and deeper he goes, using his hands, filling his fingernails with the mire.

"no! what are you doing? please, i beg you just let me do it. i wanted to present it perfect for you!"

i rush over to him, hating to see him soiling his hands, his perfect hands for me. i grab them and pull them from the work. i expect to see a prince's hands--soft and gentle as He is the Prince of Peace. instead, i feel rough, worn hands accustomed to hard labor. dirt stains between the callouses. the scars; memories of wounds, splinters, cuts, bruises. the scars. the scars.

what i saw was that we try to uproot our weeds because we want to present ourselves to Christ as He would want to see us. we don't want him to know that they are there, so we hide and wait and wait. we then show him strictly what we want him to see. what i see is that we try and give Jesus whatever it is that we have or are going through when we don't even know how deep some stuff is rooted and so we give it to him prematurely. we have to let him IN and SEE our hearts so he can walk us through it, work it out with us. i don't know about you but there is always this fear, of letting Him see our heart, i want to get the weeds and and show him the weeds that i've uprooted and once i'm clean, then he can see what i have. but this is imperfect and will never work, we will wear ourselves out this way.