a clothesline, a gate and a few weeds...

With the tease of almost 70 degree weather yesterday and daffodils in bloom, we ventured into the backyard to drink up the sunshine and fresh air and explore our old friend, the backyard.

We first extended our clotheslines to hang out a few rugs from inside and memories of last summer's four month excursion without a dryer came flooding back. I was quickly reminded of the lessons that my clotheslines taught me last summer: to slow down, simplify, meditate, pray and be grateful for the conveniences we have in such abundance. My heart jumped just a bit with the anticipation of "lazy" summer afternoons hanging miniature rags and diapers out on my trusty lines, thinking and praying, at peace in my backyard with my Savior.

We then walked around the yard, pruning back the many plants that still appear dead and dry from the dormant winter. It struck me how so many of our plants look like they haven't survived, but need time, the warm sunshine, spring rains and a bit of tender care to thrive in the months to come. I began to wonder what areas of my own heart are dormant in this season, and if to my Maker and those around me, they appear dead, without new life.

After the pruning, I could clearly see the weeds that regardless of the cold or lack of rain, so easily, abundantly spring up in the abandoned beds. So anxious to plant seeds, Addy ran up to me begging to begin planting. I stopped, knelt down and showed her the many weeds that would choke out our little seeds if we didn't take the time to rid our bed of weeds that had taken root. Many of the weeds were small and easily pulled. But, one in particular, I recognized from last fall, one I had left to deal with this spring, one that I just couldn't be bothered with when I should have. To pull that one weed took all my strength, leverage and few strong tools. I almost surrendered entirely to wait for Joel's strength and assistance. And in that pulling, the weight on my own heart became more pressing as I heard a still, peaceful voice beckoning me to look at the garden of my own heart and ask "where have weeds taken root, where must I be pruned, and how does this soil need to be prepared to produce fruit?" It took all night, but I finally had the courage to utter the question to my dear husband, who the Lord uses so much to tend my heart. Do I really want to know where he sees weeds?

After clearing out the bed for our spring peas, Addy and I ventured over to the "big" garden's gate and just stood, staring at the massive plot of composting remnants from last season, stacked wire cages and dry leaves. With a deep sigh knowing the work that it will take to prepare the soil for this year's garden, I smiled as she exclaimed "Mama, are the tomatoes ready yet?"

Not yet dear one, there is much work to be done. But we can have such confidence in this: "I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the growth. So neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but only God who gives the growth...And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ."

So ultimately, what takes root, what grows and what produces fruit is up to the Great Gardener, but we will faithfully tend the soil, root out the weeds that can choke out life, rejoice in the sun, rain and fertilizer that He faithfully sends, and look forward, with great anticipation to the harvest that He alone is faithful to produce.

Grab your clothespins and your gardening gloves, there is His faithfulness to meditate on and weeds to be pulled.

And just in case you think it might be too much work, or not worth the effort and the pain that can ensue from pruning and weeding, we can look back, remember His faithfulness, and the fruit of last year's work.