Life and Death

As for what was sown among thorns, this is the one who hears the word, but the cares of the world and the deceitfulness of riches choke the word, and it proves unfruitful. -Matthew 13:22

I have a black thumb. I so much as look at a plant and it dies. Knowing this gifting, I keep landscaping to a minimum and appreciate my postage stamp yard. However, due to a recent tree root pruning, I needed to lay sod around my townhome. Sod laying is intensive work followed by weeks of daily irrigation, just to keep the grass alive. Didn’t help that the ground hasn’t had rain since Noah, so it was up to me to tend to the growth. I did my part; some sod did not. Despite my best efforts, dry brittle grass still emerged like a beige carpet. I would not be mocked by death. Once diagnosed as DOA, the brown was banished so the green could grow. I literally hand removed the dead brush of blades and tossed them to the wind. There was no reason, I reasoned, to waste time, money and effort to nourish the dead. I was far more interested in the life buried beneath.

As I sorted between the healthy, flourishing green blades – rooted in soil and searching for water – to weed out the dead ones, I saw me. They say the soul is a garden flourishing or dying at any moment. The key is water (living water, of course) and tending to the pruning of disconnected branches or blades. From a certain angle, the soul looks to be flourishing. But when drawing closer, the dead branches are seen strewn about. Shaken by the Wind and waiting to be discarded. If left unattended, they will only impede the flourishing growth that seeks the light and life. We always hope the dead ones move on their own without any effort on our part. We would much rather water and bask in the beauty of our productive efforts than deal with the disposal of the dead. But, as it turns out, both are equally required. For life to push through, the carpet of carnage must be seen and removed. Burned to ash, if needed.

Pruning and uprooting are horribly painful, especially when the roots are deep into the soil. We’ve become so accustomed to the sight that we’d rather live among the gravestones than deal with the digging. Which we can, if we choose. But until the death is disposed of by our own digging and destroying, the life below remains suffering and sparse. Pruning, as painful as it is, gives hopes to buds of true life.

Growth is not fast; especially in a drought. Patience in performance comes when we shift our focus to the task as hand: remove the dead and water the living. Dead to me are selfish decisions and tragic consequences. Dead to me are betrayals and lies. Dead to me false identities and faithless beliefs. Dozens of weeds emerge each day – choking out the life of rooted identities and heart choices. The worst are the ones unseen. Tending, pruning, uprooting – all are required to see the beautiful blooms.

Bury the dead, without markers of stone. Tend to life to rise again. Water and wait.