The Wages of Sandburs

When we moved to our (very small) acreage, we discovered a new plant. A variety of Cenchrus known as sandburs, otherwise known as Bighurtus Defootus and other, less repeatable names. Our first Fall we found them clinging to our pant-legs, lodged in the bottoms of our shoes, stabbed into our bare feet, dug into the carpet, and caught between our dog's toes. From mid-August until the yard was deeply covered with leaves sometime in late November, I was vacuuming the foyer rug every other day; I picked the remaining burrs out of the carpet with tweezers while remembering more four letter words than I thought I knew. We'd never encountered them before and hadn't seen any obvious sticker bushes. After consulting Oklahoma natives and 'the Googles,' we learned that sandburs are a member of the grass family; they grow in grass-like clumps, making them hard to identify until they begin to produce the distinctive stalks full of burrs.

Isn't besetting sin like that? A weakness that reoccurs so often it seems just part of who you are? It mingles in with regular life, growing undetected until you accidentally put your foot in it, so to speak. Then you're surprised to have received a wound from something that you didn't realize had become a problem. 

The most dangerous, long-term, hard-to-eradicate sin in my life has been bitterness. Most of my other issues seem to spring from that root. It skews my perspective, darkens my outlook and saps my faith. Criticism of myself and others rises, drowning hope. Over and over I confess. I repent. I turn to Jesus. Yet sooner or later bitterness rears its head again...a soulish sandbur with seed stalks radiating from a center planted deep in my heart. Over the years I've repeatedly dealt with the symptoms, yet the root keeps sending up shoots.

This summer, remembering last Fall, I determined to make a dent in my sandbur population. I've been pulling them up as I find them all summer, but to do nothing but that means that I will be pulling them every summer forever. The best way to rid the lawn of the pests is to attack from multiple fronts. Dig up any discovered plants, pull a blanket or towel over the grass to catch the burrs which have fallen to the ground, then apply a pre-emergent herbicide each spring. This is time-consuming, sweaty work, and I've been warned that this process can take five to eight seasons to have good effect. 

When I discover that bitterness has (again) reared its head, I'm realizing that repenting is good but not enough. This weed must also be battled on several fronts. As I turn to face the Lord confessing my weakness and sin, I need to have an eradication plan in place as well. I've learned that the best antidote for weeds is a healthy lawn. When depression and bitterness rear their heads, I know my spiritual lawn has fallen into neglect. Bitterness would have a harder time of it, if I consistently cared for my spiritual life. Worship and the Word are not just 'things I ought to do,' they are necessary to keep Jesus front and center in my heart. Jesus enables me to look at my life through the lens of gratitude and contentment. Then I can better resist worrying about my rights, whining about my unmet expectations and rehearsing the real or imagined slights of others. Immersing myself in the Word reorders my thinking and restores hope. Drinking deeply of His presence lessens my thirst for the things of this world, which only seem to satisfy. A heart full of Jesus leaves little room for bitterness.

So as I do the hard, physical work of pulling as many of the %#*&@ burrs as possible, I'm praying about my spiritual weed problem too. I'm asking the Lord to identify the spots where I've let bitterness grow unchecked, so it can be rooted out. And I'm working towards more consistently spending time with the Lord. I'm once again practicing silence and find it easier to quiet my mouth than my thoughts. It's hard to stop my restless mind from roaming and just be with Him, enjoying His presence and letting Him speak. To lay aside my wish list and simply adore and exalt Him. To make Him the prize of my life, rather than a bunch of other stuff I think I'm supposed to have. I'm asking for a heart that lets the Lord do what He must to make me more His own. If I can submit to His ministrations, the Master Gardener will nurture a free and full heart, not one overwhelmed with the weed of bitterness. He always gets a good result.

"The day that any of you—man or woman, family or tribe of Israel—begins to turn away from the Lord our God and desires to worship these gods of other nations, that day a root will be planted that will grow bitter and poisonous fruit." Deuteronomy 29:18 TLB