I looked out the front window, shocked by the "native foliage" that had overtaken my front flowerbed - and by that, I mean bushbed. Some hedges bloom occasionally, but who are we kidding? It would be dishonest to call it a flowerbed.
Though the entire entry area for our front door is surrounded by "greenery", a closer look reveals the lack of control within which the weeds have been allowed to thrive.
Landen joined me in my outward gaze. As we stood side by side, arms folded across our respective fronts, I suggested to him that we needed to weed the beds. He resisted. I compromised, "Well, at least that huge thing that towers above the rest!"
"THAT thing? That's a shrub!"
I assured him it was not. "I promise it's a weed, Landen."
He argued, "It looks like a bush. It's growing like a bush. It's sorta green and pretty like a bush."
With finality, I pronounced, "I promise it's a weed. It may continue to grow, but it will never bear flowers or fruit."
He went out to remove the intrusive plant and others along the way.
I stayed in and wondered if there are "weeds" in my life that need attention. Stuff that looks alive and well, but is working against the bigger picture.
Are there areas that are overgrown with haphazard activity - so much so that it's difficult to distinguish the good from the bad?
Show me Your ways, O Lord...
