Watering the Weeds –
Last night I took the dog outside and while he was doing his business I turned on the spigot and began watering the flowers we have on the front side of the house. There are flowers in barrels, long cement pots and hanging baskets. As I watered I kept an eye on the dog whose losing his hearing more each day. He began walking down the driveway and I wanted to call him before he was out of hearing range. I continued watering as I yelled his name and when he turned around I looked down to see I was watering a flower holder that we had not planted anything in this year. It was full of weeds. As I watched the water nourish them I asked myself; “Why are you watering weeds?“I stopped as soon as I realized what I was doing and began watering the flowers my wife had planted again.
I reflected on the wisdom in not watering the weeds in our lives. Too often there are habits, thought patterns, worries, difficulties, and challenges that our mind focuses on to the detriment of the good that needs attention. Instead of giving the energy needed to rid ourselves of these weeds or accept there is nothing we can do at this point in time, we obsess, ruminate, give these problems and issues valuable nourishment. We focus and feed the bad and not the good in our lives.
Our mental, emotional, and spiritual lives need nourishment not the weeds of discouragement, disillusion, and defeat.
Surfing or Drowning –
I just finished reading an article from seven years ago today about a father and son who were killed by a drunk driver. The mom shared it on social media and the heartache is still present and the wound raw. I can’t imagine the pain. I knew the father a little. He was in our church’s youth group. He was a few years older than me but always seemed cool. He was an athlete. He ran, biked, swam, and surfed. The morning dad and son were killed they were training for a triathlon. The father was named after his father and the son carried on the tradition. He was the III.
How do you have hope in the midst of such loss? How do you not drown in sorrow? How do you not get lost in such darkness? I don’t think there’s an easy answer. Quips and quotes don’t begin to address the brokenness and reveal our lack of intimacy with death. We do everything we can to avoid it. Most of us try to prolong our lives by any means necessary. When death finally does come we are quick to make the arrangements, organize a memorial or funeral service and push past it as fast as possible. But even then, death finds a way to corner us, trap us, confront us. After the hustle and bustle of meals, flowers, sympathy cards, and services we find ourselves alone when death, misery, mourning, comes calling.
Experts tell us that when we are caught in a riptide to not fight the current or it will surely drown its victim. Let it grab you and then slowly, moving parallel to the shore, slip from its grip. I think this is how we deal with the loss of those we love. There’s no escaping and fighting and refusing to acknowledge its power end in certain defeat. To allow it take hold, scare us, shake our faith, sweep our “normal” life away, but not giving up is the key. Slowly our strength returns, we regain our bearings, we slip from its grip, rise above the waters and live.
Life can be hard, difficult, painful and full of loss. There are times, seasons, when the chaos of existence seems to strip us of everything we hold dear and we wonder; “Is there a reason to keep going? What’s the point when everything has been taken away?” When all around us has crumbled, our foundations have been shaken and those things which we’ve placed our faith in no longer exist and we come to place where love, grace and miracles are illusion, what do we do?
At this crisis point we are faced with the decision to trust when there doesn’t seem reason, to see blessing when your way is cursed, to expect life as death hovers near. From the rubble of disappointment, disease, defeat, dejection, even death comes a chance at a new beginning, an appreciation for what will emerge after all we value disappears.