There is a patch of dirt that lies under the front windows of our little blue and brick house. It borders the sidewalk that runs from the door to the driveway and in this place, beneath the shallow layer of dirt lies very old concrete. And on top of the concrete are small landscaping stones long buried. Very little grows in this small place besides weeds. The weeds come every year no matter what I do, and they drive me a little crazy, because I like things clean and neat and orderly – especially when life feels anything but…
So each summer, sooner or later, I can be found on my hands and knees on the front walk, shoveling mulch and declaring war against new weeds.
This summer, not so very long ago, I was in the middle of my little war, hands stiff and crusting with that dried dirt feeling, when Chase came over to me.
He was out of breath from riding his bike and he doubled over next to where I crouched, his hands on his knees, arms stiff.
“Why are you worrying about this, Mom?”
I was not into this parenting moment, my voice pulling short like the torn roots in my hands. “Because, Chase.”
I reached for another weed, trying not to think about how tired he sounded from a normal activity, how white his skin looked despite the warm sun that should make it rosy from exertion.
“Mom…” His small hand landed on my shoulder then. His voice too old for his body. “Mom, don’t worry about the weeds.”
I can never resist his heart to reassure, my own melting at his words even as I stubbornly fought to explain. “Chase, this is part of my job…part of how I care for our house and our family.”
Could he not see how much I needed just one thing to be right, to go right, to line up in that moment?
He shook his head. “But Mom, sometimes there are weeds in life and it’s okay. Don’t worry about them. Just take a deep breath. It’ll be okay. Don’t worry about the weeds, Mom.”
Sometimes things aren’t the way we want them to be. The dirt patches of life feel too small, too clogged, too messy.
We toil and weep and things still crop up over …and over again.
Like weeds…
Like fear…
Like doubt…
It’s easy to get on our hands and knees over these places; to obsess.
But as Chase said… it’s okay, dear ones. At the end of the day, these weeds are a futility and not the ultimate focus. So weep, but don’t obsess, because there is a better rest to be had. Get up off your hands and knees and give the uprooted pieces to the One who can handle them better, best and forever …and take a deep breath.
Do you feel His hand on your shoulder?
Moment by moment.
“But when I am afraid, I will put my trust in You.”
Psalm 56:3 (NLT)
**On Wednesday, October 14th, Chase will be undergoing a bone marrow biopsy. Thank you for your prayers, dear ones. MbM.**