My mom had the most beautiful, productive vegetable garden in our little town. She was famous for it. Her secret: no weeds for her thirsty vegetables to compete with. Her not-so-secret weapon: three daughters, on their knees in the dirt, who she had taught to dig to China if needed to eliminate every bit of the weed, especially the root. The bane of our existence: bindweed (we called it Morning Glory): A weed that stores its energy in deep underground root structures, any tiny part of which left underground will sprout a new plant for us to dig out another hot day. Getting the whole root was always the goal, and the only “right way” to weed. It was always a beautiful moment when we brushed off the dirt and hauled away another pile of weeds.
A cancer diagnosis means many things, and the meanings morph and shift over time. I had a friend early in the process tell me that I was blessed to have the time to build relationships and prepare myself and those I love for the inevitable time we were apart. It was not particularly comforting when the newness of cancer was still so raw. But that thought has worked on me for a long time now, and I have come to greatly appreciate it.
I grew up angry. I had some reasons to be angry, and those things needed healing before I could naturally respond to life’s pain and frustration in healthier ways. But it wasn’t just healing that needed to happen. I had to grow up. It took me a long time to mature enough to realize that my anger had hurt people in little and big ways, and damaged relationships in the process. I’ve spent years on my knees, trying to find and pull out all the pain.
I have worked hard for a lot of years to change my “way of being” toward people. For the most part, I have succeeded, and any relationship problems have been healed. I have learned the value of a sincere apology and it has helped me change. It is such a beautiful thing to clean another section of my life, haul away the pain, and see the growth in myself that happened as time and effort and recognition did their job.
In time, and after clearing away much of the obvious mess on the surface, I could see that there were still roots of my anger buried deep, storing energy to pop up at some unfortunate time, and toward some unfortunate person. But I’ve been blessed with a not-so-secret weapon: the Holy Spirit, that “brings all things to our remembrance”.
Occasionally a memory will enter my mind of a time when I was arrogant or rude or thoughtless, or just plain mean. These “pop-up” memories were unwelcome at first. The discovery that you’ve hurt or offended someone should be uncomfortable. But I have come to realize that these moments are God’s way to help me discover and pull up any relationship “weeds” that were hidden deep or forgotten.
I recently was reminded of one of these “weeds”. What a blessing to be able to get on my knees, pull it now, apologize sincerely, and brush the dirt off in real time.
It’s always weed season.