Gardening Brings Peace

I must say I love to work in the garden. Actually, I don’t have much of one but I do consider my flower beds garden also. I’ve often gone out to pull weeds and dig in the dirt when I’m sad, or angry, frustrated or depressed. It just seems to make me feel better. Yesterday I went out to work the beds because I was a little sad. My yard has the worse case of weed infestation and “devil” grass. I’ll explain later. It’s quite disturbing since the neighbor to the right of me has a lush, thick carpet of green surrounding his house. The yard across the street is similar and down on the corner as well. I love green. I love walking barefoot in soft, thick, grass. However, the landlord didn’t have the same idea. The tradition in the south for laying grass seed, is to put a layer of straw/hay over the top. Maybe that’s like a mulch, to keep the moisture in. However, I’m thinking, where is this straw/hay coming from? From a field someplace that contains weeds? That’s what I’m thinking. Plus, there are a couple of other reasons why I feel I have weeds. Anyway, as I was removing weeds from my flower beds, and trying to remove the “devil grass” (aka Bermuda grass) I began thinking about allegories.
I see the weeds in the yard as sins in our lives or trials we face. They become a pain and left unattended their roots dig deep into the ground (and into our lives). The Bermuda grass is that noxious grass that grows out further and further, laying down roots as it grows. It reminds me of Satan, slithering around attacking us. Each root it lays down is another jab or fiery dart trying to bring us down. So I get a little aggressive when trying to remove this grass from my beds, trying to devour the beautiful flowers and bushes, trying to strangle their beauty. It’s tiring work, and when there is too much it may take days to remove, but it looks so much nicer when finished. God is the Master Gardener. He created all of the beauty of springtime. Yes, he even created the weeds and Bermuda grass. He makes everything good. He’s also our Master Gardener, that is, if we let him. He created us, tends us, prunes us, lovingly speaks to us and wants to keep the fiery darts (or weeds) from choking us. He loves us that much--more than we might love our gardens.