In particular, though, as I learn to garden, I've been thinking about weeding. In many ways, weeding is simple - as long as you know what is supposed to grow there, everything else is pretty much weeds. It is satisfying that even if I don't recognize the weed, I have learned to recognize my small sprouting plants and so can confidently uproot the weeds and allow my plants to flourish. My mom says we enjoy weeding because it is like medicine - taking out the bad stuff and leaving room for the good to grow. I just never thought it would be so much work to keep the bad stuff under control. It grows so easily and quickly while the good stuff seems to grow relatively slowly and require a lot of careful watering and tending.
After spending three hours on it yesterday, I was thinking about the parallels in the rest of life. How much effort do I put into weeding out bad things in my life - disciplining myself not to make bad choices, to use my time wisely, to stay connected to people when it takes effort, to study when I'd rather read or relax watching clips on YouTube? How quickly weeds spring up in my life! How much easier they are to pull out when they're small and when I stay on top of the weeding than when they're better rooted! Do I know and love the good things I want to grow so well that I can easily uproot the bad things that would choke them out?
Conversely, how much effort do I put into planting and tending good things - good habits, healthy relationships, my understanding of and love for God, friendships that challenge me to grow, self-discipline - in my life? Do I carefully pick out seeds that will lead to fruit I will enjoy and do the things (i.e. plant them at an appropriate depth and keep them well watered) that will give them the chance to sprout and then deepen their roots? Do I delight in the small, fragile green growth of my seeds long before they grow fruit or even flowers (a one-inch stem and two leaves for my zucchini were so exciting that it took me far longer than it should have to prune them back to the two plants/hill they should be)? Do I mourn the seeds that didn't sprout and vigilantly fight the enemies (weeds, slugs, insect borers, etc.) that would destroy my plants? Do I prop up the ones with weak stems like I do my tomatoes, making support for their weakness because they will then be able to grow and bear fruit?
Far too often, the answers to most of these questions are "no." I have learned that it takes oft-surprising effort and discipline to get the literal fruits of one's labors in a garden. Since I think God delights no less in good fruit in my life (and mourns the bad), may I learn to be a good gardener of my own life and choices as I likewise seek to raise a healthy garden with lots of vegetables for later in the summer. May I remember always that God works alongside me, breathing life into both me and my plants, delighting in every small growth and working towards fruit we can both enjoy.
