Gardening for a Dummy

"A farmer went out to sow his seed. Some of it fell on the road; it was tramped down and the birds ate it. Other seed fell in the gravel; it sprouted, but withered because it didn't have good roots. Other seed fell in the weeds; the weeds grew with it and strangled it. Other seed fell in rich earth and produced a bumper crop. . .
And the seed that fell in the weeds—well, these are the ones who hear, but then the seed is crowded out and nothing comes of it as they go about their lives worrying about tomorrow, making money, and having fun." - from Luke 8

I have historically viewed this passage as if it pertains only to people in their "pre-acceptance or -rejection" of the gospel and Jesus. Now, as I read, reread, and listen to the Holy Spirit I realize for the first time that within this story lies a description of my own heart. The "good seed" is so often crowded out by the cares, worries, and pleasures of this world; the weeds. I have tended weeds more than the good seed. It reminds me of talking to my best friend, Kathryn, just recently. The Holy Spirit led her to look at some things in her life, and realize that she was keeping them in the "soil" because they had a nice bloom - but they were nothing more than flowering weeds. In the garden of my life (time, priorities, commitments, thoughts, etc.) I can often identify and pick out the weeds. But only now do I truly realize tending these weeds, the shallow, surface ones, is like standing over a weed in a garden and having to continually cut the weed back, when what really needs to happen is for the hand of the gardener to reach down deep in the soil and pull up this unsightly, unwelcomed growth, roots and all.

It's the soil of my heart that has weeds, my deepest soil, and in a lot of ways I have just been maintaining and shoveling around top soil and mulch. Another telling of this same parable describes the heart with this kind of soil as "lacking in maturity". Ouch. It's the best and worst of realizations. I realize my tendency to allow cares, worries, and pleasures of this life to be the plants I tend to. They are often the primary make up of my garden. Good to realize. That's the best part. The worst part is the knowledge that I don't have a clue how to change this.

But You do . . .

"You are my private garden, my treasure, my bride, a secluded spring, a hidden fountain . . . you are a garden fountain, a well of fresh water streaming down from Lebanon's mountains." This is what You say about my garden. What a vastly different picture than the one I see of my garden. And, perhaps, therein lies the problem - I have treated it as "my garden" when all along it is Yours, ours, a place for us. How do I change the condition of the soil? Let You in. How do I uproot the weeds? Let You in. How can what really needs to grow spring up instead of the useless overgrowth? Let You in.

So I will say, "Awake, north wind! Rise up, south wind! Blow on my garden and spread it's fragrance all around. Come into Your garden, my Love; taste it's finest fruits." And what will be Your reply? "I have entered My garden, My treasure, My bride! I gather myrh with My spices and eat honeycomb with My honey. I drink wine with My milk."

Oh, Lover and beloved, eat and drink! Yes, drink deeply of your love!

God I want to tend our garden with You. Help me, Lord.