Sticking It Out

Yesterday, I had to give my attention to my sad landscaping around the house. I say sad because I've lived here almost three years, and it looks only a little better than when I moved in, but it's still not close to the condition I would like to see it. That means I have to regularly give attention to the thistle weeds that pop up in the mulch to keep it from looking like a mess.

Anyone who knows me well knows that I hate weeding. And I mean, I hate it. Several people I know find it rewarding and feel a real sense of satisfaction when the weeds are pulled. Not me. I mean, yes, it's nice to see the weeds gone, but it's not a big enough pay-off for me to really enjoy it because I know I have to do it again much sooner than I'd like to. I don't like bending over and tugging at weeds that don't want to come up. I don't like getting stabbed by the thorns on my rosebush. I don't like seeing little branches from the tree find their way into the mulch and start growing a new tree without my consent. I don't like finding spiders or even wondering that I'll find spiders. I don't like trimming my firebush when the trimmer turns off suddenly and then realizing that it turned off because my extension cord got in the way of the teeth, which promptly separated the extension cord in two.

I. Don't. Like. It.

Which, of course, makes for a wonderful little metaphor about sin. :) As I was tugging on thistle bushes yesterday, I had three or four that I ripped off at the surface of the soil instead of coming up at the root. By the third one, I found myself muttering, "Oh, geez. I really don't like this!"

As soon as the words passed my lips, I thought about sin and the Lord's perspective (and, of course, the blog post that was taking shape as I processed this thoughts). To pull up these weeds, I have to be committed. I have to be patient, and thorough, and most importantly, do it even when I don't feel like it. I could move on to the next plant when the weeds are gone at the surface, but I know it'll just come back, so I have to stick with it and put more oomph into the processing of digging up the root.

It gave me similar reflections on the Lord's commitment to me - to us - that my pottery class did. To transform me into the woman He wants me to be, He has to tend to me often. And even though it would make the surface look better if He just lopped off my sin where it's visible - at the behavioral level - it wouldn't really accomplish much because the surface is fed by the root system. He does the harder thing and continually focuses His attention on the roots in my heart and mind. But, boy, is that hard work! Sometimes those roots just don't want to come up. I suspect, in those cases, that God does what I did; He gets out His metaphorical garden shovel, lowers Himself right up close to the where the root is just peeking out through the surface, and starts to dig. When I do that, I'm in the thick of the things I listed above that I don't like - closer to the spiders, down on my knees with an aching back, and feeling the pieces of mulch make painful little impressions on my skin. When God gets down close to the roots of our sin, He's in the thick of it, too - the ugliness of our hearts, the pride that says we can manage the root alone, our resistance to His sanctifying work, our belief that that sin, even though it separates us from Him, at least brings enough of something (pleasure, comfort, distraction, peace, control, etc.) that it's worth not giving up. But He needs to dig it up if we're going to change, so dig He does.

Here's where the comparison ends, though. When a real root comes up in the landscaping, it's not a very long-lasting satisfaction for me. When a spiritual root comes up - like my nearly debilitating fear of flying, or my anxiety about my health, or some areas of legalism - there is a deep level of satisfaction that comes. It's wonderful to look back on who I was a few years ago and, though I see some areas that still need to change, I also see some areas that have. And that makes submitting to the weed-pulling that the Lord wants to do a little easier the next time.

One last thing: as I was weeding yesterday, the ground was dry, and I thought to myself how much easier it would be to pull up the weeds if the ground was wet. See where I'm going with this? Spiritually speaking, I know my sin will be easier to uproot if I'm watering my heart with the Truth of the Word. I don't do that enough - not even close to enough.

So, at the end of the day, weeding was a good chore yesterday. I want to hate my sin as much as I hate weeding. I pray that, with the Lord's help, I'm getting there. I've got to choose to give up the sin even when I don't feel like it, and I see some progress in my life there. But more importantly, that chore reminded me of the value in sticking it out. No, my sin won't be uprooted easily, and another one will often pop up in an old one's place. But I have a Father who sticks it out, and I want to be like Him, which means I've got to, too.