The Ministry of Weed Pulling

Anyone who knows me, knows that gardening is not my thing.   I do love gardens and am captivated by how they grow...I'm just not very good at it.   My family, on the other hand, is full of wonderful gardeners.   Just after Jeff passed away, my mother and my sister decided it was time for my yard to have some life to it.   They came over and planted beautiful plants in my flower gardens (that were pretty much just dirt at the time), and gave me instructions on how to "not kill" the pretty flowers.   All my friends were certain that this was an effort in futility and the plants would soon be dead.   I had to agree with my friends.   But for some reason Mom and Christie believed in me.

Nearly six months later, that garden is still blooming and growing!  Believe me, no one is more surprised than I am!!!   I have to thank our friend, Ronnie, for coming over and checking my irrigation system and actually setting a timer so the plants to get watered a couple of times a day.   Now, every time I step out of my front door, I get to see pretty flowers...what joy it brings me.

But along with those flowers come other unwanted visitors.   There are insects (that I'm learning to appreciate) and nasty weeds (that I loathe).  My friend, Chris (whose garden is AMAZING...she like even grows food in hers!), came by to visit one day and when I opened the door, she was pulling a weed from my garden.   She apologized and told she just couldn't help herself...weeds drive her nuts.   It didn't bother me a bit!   She went on to say that she found weed pulling to be therapeutic and that she actually enjoyed it.  Odd.   How could someone ENJOY pulling weeds? It made no sense to me.

Well, time has passed and though my garden is still growing well, so are the weeds.   At first, it was just a few along the edge of the sidewalk...then more and different kinds began to grow.  Yesterday, as I walked past my garden, I realized that it was becoming more difficult to identify the weeds from the flowers.

Sin is that way.   If we ignore it, it doesn't stop growing.  No, instead it takes root and sprouts up in new places.   Eventually, it will rise up and choke out everything good in our lives...and it will become harder to identify (because we become numb to it).    It must be "weeded" from our lives on a daily basis.

My first attempt at pulling weeds was a failure.   I waited until the hottest part of the day and became frustrated very quickly when the weeds would not come up.   I was hot, defeated and worst of all, still had a garden full of weeds.  I then remembered something my friend told me, it's easier to weed when the soil is soft.   Right after a rain (or after the sprinkler system has cycled) is the best time to weed.  So this morning, as I walked by the bed, I noticed that ground was wet...I stopped and pulled a weed. It came out with ease.   Before I knew it, I had pulled all the weeds out of that bed.  My hands were dirty, but the weeds were out and my garden was healthier for it.

It was in the middle of that weed pulling venture that God spoke truth to me.   I don't know if you caught it, but I've already said, "weeds are easier to pull when the soil is soft".   Rain softens soil, a sprinkler system softens soil...and I realized this morning, tears soften soil as well.  When the soil of my life has hardened (by the pressures and exposure that this life brings) and weeds have taken root, sometimes God will allow an unexpected storm to come along and soften our soil.   It is not meant to harm us...it comes to soften us.   The same rain that softens the soil so that weeds can be more easily removed, brings nourishment to the plants.   The same tears that soften my heart so that sin can be more easily uprooted, will bring growth and fruit that is good.

I learned a couple of other things this morning about weeds.   1) Younger weeds are easier to pull than those that have been ignored for months...uproot sin early, don't let it take root.  This is especially true with offense.  If you let it take root, it will quickly turn to bitterness, then hatred...and then it is not so easily uprooted.   Deal with sin as soon as you recognize it...it will be much easier.  2) When pulling weeds, you will get dirty.   My hands were filthy when I finished...and bleeding in a couple places where a thorn got me.    Don't expect it to look pretty when your pulling the "weeds" in your life.   If you are doing it right, it most likely will not look pretty.   You can always wash your hands afterward.

The hardships that I have lived through in the past couple of years made my heart hard in places.   I allowed sin to take root and hoped that if I ignored it, it would die or simply go away.   I couldn't understand, when the weeping came, that God was allowing the tears to soften the soil of my heart.   What seemed like a senseless downpour to me, was intended to soften, bring life and cleanse me so my life would be a fragrant garden.   As I pulled those weeds this morning, I thanked God for the storms that I have misunderstood.   Thank you, Lord, for loving me enough to send a storm to soften my heart.   Thank you that you do not just ignore the wrong things in my life, that you deal with them, uprooting the evil and bringing forth new life that glorifies You.   Create in me a new heart, and renew a right spirit within me.  Ps. 51:10.

  

Indentations

As I write this blog entry, I am approaching what would have been the 25th anniversary of the day I said "I do" and began this amazing life with Jeff.   On that hot Summer day in 1989, we stood before our friends and family and exchanged vows and rings, sealing our promise with a kiss.   Alas, we were husband and wife.   I never would have dreamed that I would approach this Silver Anniversary as a widow.   That the love of my life would move to Heaven just a few short months before our celebration.  No, on that day all I knew was that the ring he placed on my finger that day would be there for a very, very long time.  

When Jeff and I began to talk about getting married, I worked in a large jewelry store.   I looked at rings all day, inspected them and knew how to tell the good diamonds from the bad ones in a glance.   I paid very close attention to the craftsmanship of rings and was intrigued by every detail.   Jeff knew this so he went to a local jeweler (not a chain), where the owner was known for hand picking his stones and for crafting one of a kind jewelry.    His work wasn't particularly flashy or over the top, but it was detailed and no two rings that he made were the same.  

That day, as he placed the ring on my hand and I placed one on his, we promised to love each other until "death do us part".   That promise ended as he drew his last breath on March 8th of this year.    Twenty-five years and 3 days after he asked me to be his bride...5 months short of our 25th anniversary.

Many times during our marriage, I would tease him about getting me new rings.   You see, as a college student, when you decide to purchase a hand crafted, hand picked diamond...you have to choose between quality and quantity.   He chose to go with something that was crafted well and had a diamond of value rather than a larger stone of lesser quality.   I love my ring, still, I enjoyed teasing him that when our twenty-fifth anniversary came around he would need to buy me a new ring!

Anyone who knew Jeff, knew he was not one to buy frivolous gifts.   Gifts didn't mean much to him, but he understood that I enjoyed them so he honestly tried to give them.    One night as we were getting ready for bed, I took off my rings and was applying lotion to my hands.   Jeff noticed that my wedding rings had left a deep indentation on my finger and he commented on it.   "Are your hands swollen?" he asked.    When I responded that they weren't but that the rings had just left a permanent indentation on my hand, he smiled.  "Oh well, guess that means no new rings, huh?   They wouldn't fit the groove."   I promptly reassured him that my finger would adjust.

Now, with our anniversary just 24 hours away, I find myself looking at that indentation.   Perhaps my finger will adjust, but I don't think my heart will.   Jeff McFalls left an indentation on my heart that is permanent...it will always be there.  

In the months since his passing I've had good days and bad days.   I have mourned the loss of a wonderful husband and father.   I have grieved over shattered dreams and the absence of my lover.   I've had to learn new things, how to take care of my family, how to function without him.   I've made decisions about finances, faith and family.   But I have avoided the thought of exchanging the ring.

Tuesday is the day that I thought I would take off my wedding band and exchange it for a new ring.   Now, I'm just not sure.   As I took the rings off tonight to clean them, I once again saw the indentation.   It is deep, as was our love for each other.   I looked up the word indentation...I found this, a deep recess or cut, a notch or impression left by direct contact with another object.   My finger has what seems to be a permanent recess...and impression left by direct contact with the ring.   My heart has an indentation as well.   A deep recess left by direct contact with an amazing man.   It will never be the same.  

I find myself wondering if I am leaving indentations on the lives of those I come in contact with.   Am I consistent enough to leave an impression?   And what will the indentations that I leave look like?    See I can show you the indentations on my hand and you can tell exactly how those rings were on my hand.   I look at our rings and they both have indentations on them...places where the rings have come in direct contact with things that left dents and cuts on them.    The indentations are very specific.  So is the indentation on my heart, but the indentation on my heart doesn't just look like Jeff McFalls...it looks like the God he served.    Why?   Because God had already left an indentation on his heart before I ever met him.   Jeff lived his life to be like Jesus as best as he could. That was his aim, to reflect Jesus.  So it is only natural that the impression he would leave would look like Jesus.

When I leave an indentation on the lives of others, I want it to be God shaped.   I want it to be an impression that looks like the cross...not like me.   In order for that to happen, I must have direct contact with Jesus.   Anything else will end up reflecting me...and that is an indentation that is worthless.    Only what I am in Christ is worth passing on.  

My plans for now are to put a new ring on my finger on Tuesday.   Honestly, I don't know if it will happen or not...I'm not there yet.   But whether I do or don't take off this ring, I will never look at my left ring finger again that I do not think of Jeff and thank God for every moment He gave me with him.   And when I think of him, how can I not remember his first love...Jesus Christ.   Oh Lord, leave your indentation deep on my heart and let whatever mark I leave on this world look like You.