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My lettuce babies are up and thriving. We have pots all over the house because I’m afraid we’ll still have frost. Peppers, tomatoes, cucumbers, squash… The challenge is keeping them out of reach since Joy has a new found love of rubbing dirt between her fingers.

Last evening I was out tackling the quack grass once again. I’ve decided to pull everything up and plant vegetables instead. Tugging the long roots out I came across a few flowers I might save – but their roots are intertwined with the weeds. I worked around them to return later.

Maybe it was the quiet pink sky in the background, but I got a little philosophical. I looked at the soil with it’s bits of broken leaves and roots strewn about and wondered if my heart looks like this. It was plain to see why God is so often called a gardener. The metaphor of tending the garden, uprooting weeds, giving good soil and sun and so on. There I was on my knees contemplating borrowing a rotor tiller and realizing that all those long roots would still fill the loosened soil with unwanted plants and my impatience would only result in more weeding later on.

I’m rambling a bit here. But the only way to save the flowers is to go in gently and by hand.

It got me thinking about my children.

There are so many methods of child rearing these days. People seem to look for the most effective forms of discipline, of nutrition, education, and so on. When it comes to forming their character there are just no shortcuts. We need to move slowly, with purpose. Deliberately planting what we want to see grow and bear fruit in their lives and consistently nurturing that every day. And we can’t forget to weed either.

Thus ends today’s metaphor. Which should have photos, but I have a stomach bug and can’t be bothered to go downstairs to pull them off of the camera. 😉