Pulling Weeds

We talk as we walk, the Master Gardener and I. I am especially excited to show Him my outer gardens. Confident that my well manicured lawn and meticulously maintained fountains are presentable, I lead Him through the rows of columns and flower beds. I have taken care to prune the roses and fertilize the shrubs. As He has instructed, I have done. I am proud to show Him the bouquets freshly picked from the choicest of plants. We stroll over the well-worn paths and quietly enjoy each other's presence. Sweet fragances fill the air making our visit lighthearted and enjoyable. I so love His presence.

"These areas I have tended well," I sweep my hand to gesture this vestibule spot. I pluck a few choice blooms for Him to examine. He nods and smiles approval. I am confident in this outer garden ~ the one that I regularly visit and tend.

His eyes light on a small gate almost hidden from view by the clinging vines. "Let's go in there," He suggests.

Taken aback by His desire to leave this place of tidiness, I hestitantly respond, "Uh,... okay,... we can go in there."

We push back the undergrowth and go inside. I realize immediately that I haven't tended this part of my garden in some time and the lack of maintenance shows. I feel embarrassed at my neglect. He doesn't say a word, just rolls up His sleeves and plunges His hands into my weeds. I join in quickly. Before long, we've gotten it back under control.

How comforting to know that I don't have to do all the work alone. His loving kindness overlooks my faults. His grace allows my mistakes to be corrected. My garden doesn't have overgrown corners anymore.