Sunday Musings

 8/7/2022

    Dear W.H.R.

    (Whoever Happens to be Reading)

    Praised be Jesus Christ!

    I’ve always liked the comparison of a soul to a garden, with God as the Divine Gardener, watering and nourishing the unique flowers, cultivating fruits beyond any sweetness we can imagine, and uprooting the weeds that threaten the splendor of the soul. We too, do some of the work, for God wills to share the load with us, that we might walk in harmony with Him and grow to love Him all the more. How our little gardens flourish when we obediently dedicate ourselves to the tasks pleasing to Him, regardless of how menial they might be! And when we patiently accept the soil He plants us in, the amount of sun and water we get, or His careful pruning! For, though we might think we ought to have better nutrients in our soil, more or less sunshine, water, and pruning, it pleases Him most when we accept what we are given. The Gardener knows best what will aid the growth of His plants. 

    Well, one glance outside of my back windows will immediately dampen the pretty image of likening souls to gardens. By now, I’m not sure if there is a single flower and any of the numerous flower beds that border our house and yard. The weeds are awful! Worst of all, burdock has been increasingly infecting the flower beds for the past few years. My yard is definitely not the standard for souls…

    Now, burdock is an interesting plant. I typically call them “elephant ears,” because their leaves are huge and resemble the ears of an elephant. From my experience (and this only consists of a few poor attempts at getting rid of the overwhelming things) they can be trimmed easily. It’s just like cutting celery, as long as you have a good pair of shears. However, uprooting them is another story-and, to my understanding, that is the only sure way of getting rid of them. I have heard that their tubers (isn’t that a funny name?) can grow somewhere around four feet into the ground. You might as well dig a graveyard around my house if you were to go that route. They’re everywhere!

    I promise I’m not ranting about burdock for no reason. 

    When I am out weeding, I often think of the soul’s garden; for being in the flower beds surrounds me with perfect imagery to that effect.  The flowers are our virtues and God’s grace, and the weeds are sin and our vices. All flowers are beautiful, though some are stunning and fragrant, others are small and dainty. Some grow in bunches, others grow on their own; and some are annuals, others perennials, and still others biennials. But they all share a common characteristic: they are fragile. If they do not receive the proper care and attention, they will wither and die.

    On the flipside are the weeds. Just like the flowers, some are large; some are small; some grow in bunches, others grow alone. And if they are not uprooted, they will spread throughout the whole garden, taking over and starving the beautiful flowers. Many weeds will come up with a single tug. But others take much more effort, and continually come back. Then, there’s the burdock, with their horribly deep roots, monstrous leaves, and their prickly flowers (this part of the plant is a good example that not all weeds are ugly, but that many can deceive you by their flowery appearances). They’re easy to trim down, but much more difficult to completely remove. It’s a temptation especially to merely cut them as far down as possible, and pretend they’re not there.

    I am, of course, no longer referring directly to flowers, weeds, or burdock. It’s easier to draw up an analogy for those horrifying hidden realities that we can’t always comprehend. 

    One of the jobs we are given is to weed our gardens, a daunting task to say the least. There will never be an end to it because those persistent plants just don’t rest. But we cannot let it suffice to simply trim them, else the root remain and the plant continue to grow. It’s those burdocks that are the worst, and any other plant that settles itself far beneath the surface. But the laborious task is both necessary and profitable, for our gardens must be ever waiting, blooming and flourishing, for that moment when the Gardener comes.

    A blessed Sunday to you!