And yet, we found God in the garden. Somehow, He always seems to makes Himself known there to me. Have you met Him there, too?
It seems like in our society, dirt has become a bad thing.
Here's some dirt on her.
He's a dirty, rotten scoundrel.
I wouldn't want to get my hands dirty in that.
At the other end of the yard, my daughter calls over to me. I need some help, she says. She had dutifully been pulling little clovers out of the grass. It looks like your are doing just fine by yourself, I say. But it's better with two people, she retorts, and really, how can I argue with that? Pulling weeds is never fun, but perhaps having company makes it more bearable.
And then I think about sin as weeds and how we often try to overcome our sin by ourselves. Yes, we ask forgiveness from our Savior, but oh how easy it is to continually fall into those sinful traps again, to make the same mistake twice, or discover new ways in which we can turn down the wrong path. What if instead of keeping the sin just between me and Jesus, I told some others. Others who might keep me accountable. Others who might notice when I'm starting to turn in the opposite direction of where I should. Others that might gently guide or empathize or weep with me when I realize how I've turned away or hurt my Father or hurt my friends or even hurt one I do not know. Could working together make the task of rooting sin out of my life, out of our lives, a little less arduous? Does the work of two or three, tilling the soil of us, make it easier?
I think about what is banished in the face of a confession that goes beyond my internal pleas to my Savior. When I open my lips and spill my life into the hands of another, sin and all, what is it that disappears?
How do we know if we can really be loved unless we share the parts of our hearts that seem mired? How can we know if we can really trust unless we give someone else something that we are hesitant to expose? How can we give God the glory of our refinement unless we show that we are desperately in need of being refined?
I think about a particular weed in my garden today. It was much too big to conquer on my own. I needed help getting to the root. Perhaps as that old Sesame Street song goes, 4 hands are better than 2, 4 hands are better than 2. If you have a job that must be done, 4 hands are better than 2.
Linking with Michelle at Graceful, Laura at The Wellspring, and Shanda at Pause on the Path.