Big Questions from Little Seeds

Tiny seeds slowly drift down from Cottonwood trees, riding white threaded parachutes. Some seeds landed on the grass, others landed on the track where I was walking yesterday. Just drifting at the mercy of the wind, some seedlings continued to an area where they will start the cycle of life to become new trees. Others remained in areas where trees will not grow.

This summer I have had many seedlings start to become beautiful little trees; many of which seem determined to come up in the wrong places. Green and beautifully growing, sprouts are found in potted plants, cozied up right next to the house and in flower beds. While some can be transplanted, others have to be pulled up or cut down. Holding these tiny seeds in my hand made me think about seeds in my life. Walking along, I was considering a two part question: what seeds are being sown by me and what seedlings are coming up in my life? 

What seeds are being sown by me? Are my words full of truth, grace, mercy and seasoned with salt? Are my actions demonstrating values of love that is bearing, believing, hoping and enduring? What about the heart behind these things; is it self-focused or as a servant heart? Continuing to walk around the track, I used the time to focusing on these questions and know that if I answer honestly, my best answer would have to be - sometimes. I can have seeds in my hand, ready to plant when fatigue, fear, or simple distractions in my everyday life causes poor planting. Seeds land in shallow soil or on rocks where the roots cannot grow as needed. I am glad that God gave me the ability to learn from my lessons (and even laugh at myself through some of them) as I continue to work on this.

What about the seedlings coming up in my life? Weeds are persistent; I wish every year as I work in the yard that once the garden was weeded, it stayed that way! But, they seem to tirelessly spring up again and again. So, I consider what I need to root out and what do I need to continue to root out? This last month and a half, I have felt vulnerable walking through a season of grief, did I seek out the extra stability needed from God’s word and spending time with Him? Am I seeking out the nourishment and water that seeds need to grow strong? Again, I thank God that in these questions that He is the Master Creator that ultimately makes good plants grow and will plan and work with me in my garden.  

Many questions, all good to pursue. Not out of guilt or fear; but with joy in sitting and enjoying a worthy labor, and knowing that my dirty hands have helped to make a garden grow well. 

“Then He spoke many things to them in parables, saying: ‘Behold, a sower went out to sow. And as he sowed, some seed fell by the wayside; and the birds came and devoured them. Some fell on stony places, where they did not have much earth; and they immediately sprang up because they had no depth of earth. But when the sun was up they were scorched, and because they had no root they withered away. And some fell among thorns, and the thorns sprang up and choked them. But others fell on good ground and yielded a crop: some a hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty. He who has ears to hear, let him hear!’” ~ Matthew 13:3-9  

Football Away Game Soup – Chili

Our first winter of the season has arrived!  As a fan of the flakey white stuff, I was very excited to wake up to big fat flakes falling from the sky. The snow outlines all of the subtle structures of tree branches, a fire is in the stove, the winter garden is starting to show off its unique beauty and it is a perfect time for a big bowl of chili.

Chili is one of those soups that seem to have as many recipes as it has chefs. Beans, meat, spicy, mild, topped with crackers, cheese or creamy – these choices are just a small list of the choices that can be made with chili recipes. Each hand that makes the chili makes it a little differently. It’s a lot of fun to try these different recipes, enjoying many variations on a culinary tune.

With thousands of variations all falling under the name of chili, individuality added by each hand preparing that shared pot of soup adds distinctive flavors belonging just to them. There is not a right or wrong, just different, and yet all falling under this one category. Many ingredients are mixed together in a composition that creates a final flavor. There are many styles and tastes, but they are all chili. I love not being stuck in a box. 

My absolute favorite recipe (though I do have some close seconds) is the chili my parents make. My mom starts it and my dad flavors it as it cooks. There is always a discussion over the level of spiciness and if it will be too hot to share. And it always turns out perfectly.

This is their recipe and it makes a canner full.  Plenty to eat, share and freeze the leftovers for enjoyment on another snow day.

Family Chili for Away Game Soup

• 6 lbs. ground beef\
• 46 oz. can tomato juice
• 28 oz. can diced tomatoes
• 2 cans of 28 oz. diced tomatoes and green chilies mild
• 28 oz. can crushed tomatoes in a puree
• 28 oz. tap water
• 2 cans of 30 oz. can of chili beans
• ½ qt. size bags of bell peppers (I used frozen bell peppers from the garden this summer), diced
• 4-5 large onions, dice
• Chili powder and salt 

 Heat a large skillet, my personal preference is the iron skillet, and brown six pounds of ground beef. Stir regularly to keep the meat from sticking or burning.

While the meet is browning, dice the peppers and onions. Add the other canned and fresh ingredients to the canner. Stir the tomato juice, diced tomatoes, crushed tomatoes, chili beans, water, bell peppers and onions together.

After the meat has finished browning, drain it and add it to the tomato mixture. Start heating the soup on low.  

Stir regularly to keep the chili from sticking. For this large size pot, add ½ cup of chili powder and start with several shakes of the salt shaker. Once the chili has cooked a while, add another ½ cup of chili powder and stir.  Let the chili cook.  Add chili powder and salt to taste.

Chili is best when it has time to cook and really let all of the flavors work together. This is a great make the day ahead soup.

Summer Flavors – a New Venture in Gardening

I have had a garden before, a spot to raise zucchini and a few tomatoes. This year, my garden dreams were bitten by the spring bug when the Midwestern winter was still deep in snow, expanding the list of plants to include black beans, corn and potatoes. Spring came and plants that had been started and were growing on make-shift tables by windows or were still stored in carefully selected seed packets made it into the back of the car in boxes, traveling with the needed tools to the garden. It was time to plant! A few months later, and voila, plants are growing and there are things ready to be harvested!

Armed with Bug Soother and my hat, I wade into the green beans and breathe their smell deeply. The corn stalks bend and make a whispering sound. I have a conversation with the Gray catbird as it is sitting on the water container and watching me with curiosity. The bird sings and I join in, we sing together - celebrating the feel of the sun and praising the Son.

The grocery sacks fill with the harvest of the week. I am so excited to get home to break the beans and put them away for winter. The colors, smells, and textures – not to mention of courses tastes, are a joyful part of the experience. I do my homework, finding out how to know when onions are ready to be dug up, or when popcorn should be harvested. The feel of the warm dirt and being able to eat, share, and stock the freezer with fresh produce is a wonderful summer thing.

I look forward to the time in winter when I can pull out a bag of fresh green beans and put them on the stove to cook. The smells of summer will come back, drifting through the house, bringing summer’s flavors during wintry days. Toss a few seeds in, try a new recipe and pause to enjoy the flavors of summer. 

 Fresh Pico de Gallo

Pull out a good knife, cutting board, and bowl.  Chop up the ingredients on the list below and mix well. 

• 2 jalapeno peppers, seed and dice  *if you have a cut on your fingers, consider wearing gloves or this will make your hands feel like they are on fire!
• 1 onion (I used a purple onion for its sweet flavor)
• 4 tomatoes dice
• 3 garlic cloves finally diced

Mix everything well.  Slice 1 lime in half and juice.  Add to the mix, straining out any pulp.  Put in an airtight container and let it sit over night.  Enjoy chips or with meals, I particularly love it with a summer salad and a dab of Greek yogurt. Will last about a week. 

Summer Saturday Mornings

I’m not a morning person, really, at all. Bring on the coffee! And yet, most ideal Saturday morning sleeping in times, I am awake and up.  First I enjoy quiet time in the yard with the mandatory coffee cup in hand, and then I head to the garden for some time of weeding and harvesting. 

This last Saturday was no exception.  The beautiful lily blooms welcomed the day with their bright colors.  Industrious butterflies fluttered on the wind like yellow and white wisps. The garden was equally welcoming, the coffee is now in a to-go mug, and I enjoyed the sound of the bees flying from corn tassels to squash flowers to bean flowers.  My hands became dirty, little scratches appear on my arms from moving aside squash leaves, and great excitement builds at finding green beans ready to be picked and bring home.  A few hours later, after removing the pounds of dirt I have picked up from “playing” in the garden, I am ready to really start my weekend. 

Though coffee remains a common factor throughout, it is the quiet time that refreshes my spirit at the start of the weekend.  It is time away from excess noise and wonderful distractions to listen quietly for God’s voice.  The words of the song, Great is Thy Faithfulness, fill my heart.  “‘Great is Thy faithfulness,’ O God my Father,’” sweet words in all seasons and times of day; even in the morning with a cup of coffee in my hand.

Long Winter and Welcome Spring

 I’m sitting in the garden, enjoying the feel of sun on my back and dirt on my knees.  I know the feeling of early spring, it is when my bare feet feel grass damp and chill with dew, and when you stand in one spot for a moment the warming soil feels lovely.

Temperatures dropped and then stayed below freezing in the Midwest over the winter.  What is of course expected to be a cold season; stayed sub-zero for a longer time than normal.  The permafrost crept further through the soil as the snow and ice continued to accumulate on top; making nothing quite as welcoming as a fire in the stove and a bracing cup of hot coffee.  Small talk conversations everywhere centered on cold weather and wondering when spring would come.

February came and not surprisingly passed in winter’s chill.  March promised a thaw as the sun showed itself more, but plunged back into freezing temperatures again.  April is purported to bring showers, but I think I remember snow instead!  May has arrived though, bringing the long sought spring.

Waiting through winter’s reluctant change to spring’s entry, the green of new leaves, bright daffodil blooms, and the bright purple of the redbud trees are doubly welcome.  I find myself examining each plant to see if it has survived the prolonged cold, surveying for buds and promise of leaves.  Nothing is exempt in my search for new spring life, from tall trees to the newly planted seeds.  Waiting impatiently for blooms to appear, I expect the warmth of the sun and the moisture of the rains to have encouraged spring to occur in each plant, large and small.

Life has seasons of winter as well, sometimes seeming everlasting frigid cold without the hint of a spring has arrived to stay.  It’s those days of cold darkness (though it may be 100 degrees outside), that we are tasting bitter hurts. How do we keep our eyes toward the spring to come instead of the frozen temperatures we are currently in? Sitting in the garden this past weekend, putting seeds in the ground and anticipating seeing the new sprouts soon reminded me of how we look for heart winters to pass as well.

Winters of the heart, be it from stress, hurt, anger, grief, or a combination of them all, can chill our world as much as that accumulative snow and deepening permafrost.  We tend to pull back, hibernating in our hurts and hope for the sun to come back out.  But, in the midst of the deep winter, it is time to look at garden catalogues!  Dream of summer days, plan for gardens, and get that soil ready for new seeds.  It isn’t ignoring the winter, but it is planning ahead – looking ahead – hoping ahead – for the thaw to come.  Seeds of friendship, good changes to come, familial support, and leaning on Jesus are to be planted in a soil rich in hope, love, and the faithfulness of God. Keep watering, keep waiting and watching with anticipation and when spring comes, so do new plants of great good. 

I am looking forward to being out in the garden.  

My sun hat is ready; the seedlings are beautifully green and growing every day.  Bring on the spring!

Perspectives from Marigolds

Just spent a few minutes dead-heading the marigolds in the yard.  Of all the summer flowers, that is one of my favorites with their little sun spots of color and powerful perfume that the bees and birds love. 

To give the coming and current blooms the most energy from the plant, the dying blooms can be removed in a process called dead-heading.  Just snip the bloom off with your fingers.  I go out and do that every week or so, and that is when you will find my pockets full of marigold flowers as I head back in the house to store my treasure through the rest of the year and into the next spring.  I break up the heads so that the seeds can dry out and be stored.  Then, after the most recent batch has dried, it takes its place in a glass jar to be held until the new spring comes.

Seeing these summer blooms drying up can be kind of a sad thought.  It is a reminder of the opening and closing of life chapters in general.  But, as I look at the pile of seeds ready to dry and be stored, I can’t help but think of the perspective lesson marigolds share.  Life does present us with opening and closings, starts and finishes.  The starts and finishes can be nerve-wracking, happy, grief filled, and joyous.  Needless to say, I can go in fits and starts with openings and closings that do not regularly occur in an all smooth fashion.  New things can make me nervous, even when I’m excited about them.  And, some things I am very glad to see go, while others I miss very much. 

But, marigolds remind me of how these chapter lessons are kind of like these seeds.   The lessons can be dried out and stored for later.  Carefully preserved to be re-planted later, as life seasons change, lessons will come in handy again.  Planted in the next season, they not only re-grow from the seed of that original plant, but produces new seeds as well.  Each season of planting and building, all from one dried up flower head holding marigold seeds.    

Praise from the Garage Floor

I was sitting in the garage floor yesterday, painting a small window a lovely blue color, and listening to Rend Collective Experiment from my computer.  Singing along to some of the songs, I started thinking about worship and praise, and how my definitions of what that means narrows my width of worship and praise opportunities. 

Let me back up – worship and praise of what?  Worshipping and praising God, taking time for an action of gratitude, a heart of thanks for all that my God is and was and will be.  It’s an act that is uplifting, refreshing, energizing, and at times draining. 

So with that part said….

I’m sitting in the floor, paint brush in hand, and thinking about how worship is more than one style or one type of art and how my very definition limits me.  There is a painter who paints to music and creates incredible paintings as an act of worship.  The gardener who tends the plants so carefully to create a living canvas of color is acting out worship.  A dancer, with every fine tuned motor skill practiced, can move in time to worship.  A musician, a writer, a sculptor, a teacher, a child playing in the sprinkler… the list goes on and on.  Worship can take so many forms; I don’t want my definition to be so limiting – especially when we were made with so many ways to express praise. 

I’m going to start looking for new ways to praise, intentional actions to thank God for his goodness.  I wonder what forms it will take.  

Neighbors in Perspective

I have wonderful neighbors.  I’m not just saying that, I have the best neighbors.  They are kind, caring, and help to look out for each other, and us.  And, we in return get to help and look out for them.  I hopped on facebook this morning, just part of my normal morning routine, to check in on some virtual neighbors.  Two happily celebrated anniversaries, one birthday, and a heartfelt prayer request later, I want to celebrate the happy news of those who have shared their pictures and joys and pray for peace and comfort for those grieving. 

Neighbors are so much more than the people living in the house to the either side of us, or an electronic “friends” list.  They are people who when we reach out and get to know a bit, become a neighborhood.   A neighborhood that works to remain solidly in support of each other becomes a community.  Cities made of communities are going to function better.  They are more peaceful, cohesive, and are able to do more for each other and neighboring communities.

How do we get there?  We start taking care to keep our neighbors in our perspective.  It doesn’t have to be anything terribly complex.  Simply keep it in mind enough to think through possible needs.  If there is a heavy snow, catch them with a happy surprise by snow blowing the driveway just because.  If there is an illness, grab a meal and drop it off.  Extra produce from the garden that cannot be eaten, drop off a bag of the fresh goodies just because.  Meet at the fence, laugh and talk over those daily neighborhood things – the children jumping on the trampoline, the dog in the yard, the gardens, and the weather. 

Nothing too difficult.  Nothing that requires a committee or a huge plan.  Just keep the perspective wide enough to include the neighbors.  It can make your perspective grow tremendously.  

Iris

   This is iris season, and it seems in many yards, there are a variety of blooms gracing carefully arranged gardens complimenting front porches, sidewalk shoulders, and simple gatherings of flower clumps.  The colors and their variety are really astounding.  Russet reds, sunny yellows, purple splashes, and pure white can be the sole color or a mix of patterns that draws the eye in.  Green stalk leaves shoot up surrounding the flowers, like spear bearing foot men protecting their ladies grace. 

   I love spring flowers.  Not just because it’s wonderful to drink in the color after a long white winter, but as a sign in and of themselves of renewal that is coming.  But, I think one of the favorite parts of the iris for me is the variety and diversity of them.  So many beautiful colors, sizes, and complexity of blooms can be combined in one flower bed.  They all complement each other, each one adding it own shade of color depth.  I have a great privilege of enjoying many diverse people around me.  From different parts of the country, different countries, the people are all so different, and yet so similar.  It is something I enjoy to be able to see the depth of diversity in that human garden. 

   I think the other thing that I love about irises, and many flowers in general, is that they are something that the humblest and richest of us can enjoy.  Shared by many green thumbed gardeners who discover that they have a commonality in the love of growing things, clumps, clippings, and seeds are shared over fences and around organizations.  I see a very humble home many times in a week, it is not the most beautiful home or most elaborate.  Instead, it looks as if it needs a great deal of care.  But, in a side yard carefully tended clump are a mixture of yellow irises.  It’s like a bit of sunshine that landed in their yard and decided that it liked the green so much it would stay. 

    I love flowers, but I don’t love to weed!  Oh it comes in fits and starts where I want to get stick my hands into garden gloves and feel the pull of the weeds and the smell of the warm dirt.  I do enjoy seeing the cleanly orderliness of the flower beds afterwards.  But, in my mind – I pull weeds once in the year and it should just be done!  Some of those weeds are just annoyingly persistent.  And that is one of the thins that I also applaud irises and other flowers for when they don’t need a lot of tending.  These are no fragile hot house flowers that will wilt if they do not receive 4.2 hours of sunlight and 14 tablespoons of filtered water in an eyedropper.  Okay, so I exaggerate (a bit), but these are hardy flowers.  The bulbs are placed in the earth and there they will come and grow and spread for years.   It is their resilience in a Midwest that often faces snow and ice storms over long winter months.  I want to be resilient as well, to be planted in good soil and then allowed to grow and bloom yearly. 

    Enjoy the blooms from the yard.

Dirty Cleanliness

Yesterday I was helping in the church garden. It is my first time out this year to help weed. I enjoy going, but my calendar has been full and I haven’t made the additional time to fit it into my priorities. I do know that when I go out to the garden, I will find fellowship and dirt. This time was no exception. Gathered with several other people, (including the teens of whom I am very proud of to see working), we started in and declared that the weeds lives were numbered. Good bye grass plants and creeping charlie, good-bye prickly weeds and wild morning glories. Hello dirt and orderly rows of plants. I saw many hands, including my own, caked with dirt. Dirt caked into the crevices of my hands and packed under my finger nails. The garden raises produce to share for free with the community.

Washing my hands later, I was thinking of the phrase “Cleanliness is next to Godliness.” Somehow, it always evokes a Puritan-esque woman with her hair pulled up tightly into a bun, and her skirts arranged just so. Contrary to some beliefs, this isn’t a Biblical quote. And looking at my hands, I was grateful. They were filthy. The creases of where my hand was bent stood out like white lines against dirt stained skin.
The truth is, many times when we put our hands in to work they come back dirty. To encourage and grow others, means to not shy away from the mess of life but to dig right in. I need to go find my nail brush and see if I can’t get another layer of dirt off. Dirt that was worth the work.

Summertime

Summer – the word evokes a flurry of responses in me. I live near an elementary school, and notice that for the children making their way back and forth, they seem to have picked up a new spring in their steps. Summer is freedom; freedom from school and homework, to have time to sleep in or get up way to early and play outside until way too late. Summer time and the living is easy.... the words from George Gershwin float on the too still warm air as I seek out the comfort of shade. Lightning bugs and the sounds of night cricket sonnets fill the air as much as the light from the stars and moon. The sounds of leaves in the wind, they strike me as if they actually are laughing with the pure delight of receiving a cooler breeze than those of us with two feet stuck firmly on the earth. Summer is sun dresses and sandals, sheer silky scarves wrapped around your neck and lawn chairs. Summer is the splash of the garden hose and the smell of fresh sun warmed strawberries. Summer is the bliss of walking into the air conditioning and being able to snuggle under a quilt rather than sweating buckets on top of all sheets while fans are running. Summer is baby birds that don’t fly very well yet, are slightly mottled and now stand next to their momma’s while waiting to be fed rather than waiting in the nest. Summer is the sound of the riverboat horns as they approach each other.

I have a lot of really wonderful summer memories. I have played in sprinklers, mud, and trees. I remember making up plays with neighborhood compatriots who apparently either was willing to share the flare for the story telling or just did what the bossy neighbor girl told them. A white long haired dog named Bo Bo used to stand on our picnic table, and wait for us to come and pet him. He appreciated the attention as one of those good neighborhood dogs. He did not appreciate it when my mother tried to use some flea killer on him. With hurt feelings, he did not come back for a week. I remember summer vacations, especially ones in the back of a big green van. It had a bed in the back and I loved lying on that bed, and having it completely covered with whatever project I was working on at the time. I would let myself roll from side to side as we went around corners and watch other drivers out of the back windows. I remember many summers of band and sweating on the side of a football field. It seemed a great accomplishment to learn a few new steps, a few new notes, which we knew would be needed come fall and competitions. The accomplishment seemed worth the sacrifice of our summer hours, our sweat, blood, and yes – tears. I remember trips to stay with my grandparents. Swimming at the campground with one and all sorts of messy projects with another.
I look at this summer and as it is my first one without either being in school, preparing for school, or completely burned out from school, and I wonder what I should do with myself this summer. There is work of course. But, that is to support life, not life itself. What should I do? Read a few new books? Of course! Three are on order, two Geoffrey of Monmouth books and one biography of Eleanor of Aquitaine. I have considered lying down on the driveway at night while the pavement is still warm, but figure the neighbors would all think I had gone completely buggy. Oh well, I may do that anyway. There are flowers to picked, pictures to be taken, birds to listen to. Trips to plan, friends to visit, and time to enjoy the antics of the dogs. There is my Bible to read, my time in prayer, and Character Camp at church (like a VBS). This summer is unique. It will never come again. I feel that I need to dig down deep and plant something here that is memorable, that will be recalled someday like my grandmother’s snowball bushes. A lasting memory that comes back to life with a fragrance or sight.

Row of Flowers

Sitting in church Sunday, in the pew row directly to my front and right there were several little girls sitting together. Made up of sisters and friends with the age range spreading throughout elementary school, the pew was soon covered with a variety of toys, coloring, and other little girl things. They were such fun to watch. During the worship, they were combinations of movement as they sang and danced, colored and wrote. My mother referred to them as a row of flowers. In many ways, they were just that.

A row of little lives, small but important, precious and unique moments caught and made up in their movements and actions. Planted in the love their parents have for each of them, watered as people pour themselves into them, fed with care and hope – such a beautiful little row of flowers indeed. Perhaps a hyacinth, a lupine, a daisy, a lavender, and a peony all in a row. Each has its own color, fragrance, structure, and distinctiveness. But, they are each beautiful flowers in the garden.
Looking at these little flowers in the row, I found myself wondering who else would water them, prune, weed around, and feed them. Who else will recognize their beauty and potential and pour themselves in, in an investment of future of growth? They are special flowers, will you help them to grow?

Ash

Wood, given time and heat, creates ash. There is a large wood burning stove in the family room. The first time I saw it, I fell in love with it, the way it was shaped and had such presence in the room. At the bottom of the stove, there is a handle and a door. It opens up to a tray where the ashes are collected. They fall as the wood burns and collect in the tray. Then, as they tray becomes full the ash tray is removed and dumped outside. Ashes have been placed in the outside fire ring, the garden, and gravel driveway. The ash provides a good base for the fire ring. It can give and restore nutrients into the soil. As for the driveway, I was surprised at how well it held the gravel in during the spring melt. Even prepared ash can become something which is used to make art.

Sometimes life can feel the same way, as if everything is burning away and leaving only a messy pile of grey and black bits behind. The heat, while great during cold Iowa winters, is not so pleasant when we are walking through the fire. So, what can we learn from that? Ashes have purpose. When we are left with ashes, we now have new materials to make art with, to build up our loose gravel, and re-nourish the soil.
If you are left with a pile of ash, let’s prepare it and make art.

Flower Beds

It’s that time of year when the flower beds should be cleaned out and prepared for the new spring. Yesterday, we spent time in the yard and for me it was time to weed. There were also new flowers to plant.

While weeding is not my favorite thing to do, I enjoy the clean flower beds and the new plants which come up. Yesterday, I was enjoying the sun and the results of the weeding. In that time, on my knees, dirt under my fingernails, I was thinking of how God clears weeds out of my life. What really was impressed on me was that for God to weed and plant in my life, this means that he is right beside me, kneeled down and working in the soil of my life. What a wonder that the God who created the universe is willing to kneel down next to me, in the dirt and make the flower beds of my life beautiful.

Dirty Knees

Silence may be good for the soul, but so is some sunshine on my back and dirt under my fingernails. My back was just on fire today, sitting at work I would squirm from one side to another. Finally I gave up and dispersed with the chair choosing work by standing instead. Coming home, I was looking forward to getting into the yard and weeding.

Weeding as a help for a sore back? Yes, in this case – I knew that what I really needed was the movement of my back stretching as I bent for weeds, reaching for roots deeply rooted. Dandelions, sticky weeds, clovers, grasses – they all came out of the ground and were tossed behind me. My knees grew red as I kneeled on the grass and dirt. Breathing deeply, I smelled dirt, sweat, and grasses.
Dirty knees are good for me, and not just to stretch out my back. Dirty knees mean that I am recognizing and working on removing weeds. Sometimes, I can’t pull them out with my hands. Their roots go deep and I may need a shovel. There are times in life when I need to pull out roots of weeds. By myself, sometimes I can break them off and at least make it a bit prettier. But, the weeds just grow back. I need a shovel, I need the Master Gardening skills of Jesus to come and get rid of my weeds. Digging carefully around the plants he has planted, he removes the weeds and burrs. It is much easier to recognize and get rid of weeds when I’m down and getting my knees dirty.