I didn’t want any weeds left in my flower beds on Easter Morning. The day before Easter I weeded the front yard, digging deep to get to the roots of the dandelions. I could have just snapped off the heads of the weeds, and the yard would have looked pretty. On the surface, all would seem well, but hidden in the ground were roots that would start to grow another weed.
My life is like the weed with deep roots. I wash my face. I wash my hair and brush my teeth. I am pressed and ironed, ready to go to church. I look presentable. I look clean. But it is not the dirt smudged on my nose that I should be the most concerned about, but the dirt inside me. Am I holding any grudges? Am I angry at someone? Am I watering seeds of bitterness?
I wrote this story on Sunday. I had meant to finish it yesterday and publish it last night, but I forgot to photograph my weeds, and I didn’t want to post it without the visuals. The need to have everything perfect is another root I am working on digging out of my insides. When I woke up this morning the dark voice from deep inside of me spoke in a whisper. You said you were going to write every day, didn’t you? Well, you missed a day. You may as well quit now.
I didn’t quit. I finished my story today. When I dug up the roots of the dandelions I ran water on them for several minutes to soften up the hard packed soil, and then I gently dug up the ground around the plant, and eased out the root.
I will water the deep roots of bitterness, anger and depression with the living water of He who has risen. He will gently restore me.
I am participating in the Weekly Slice Of Life Story Challenge. You can read other writers by clicking here.
