I spent some time this weekend weeding.   Theresa and I filled two 55 gallon bags with weeds.  There must have been at least 100 pounds of plant material there.

I won’t say that the weeds were tall, but we found a wildebeest hiding in them.

I don’t enjoy weeding.  But I know that I have to (or I have to pay someone to do it) so that the weeds don’t kill everything else.  Weeding is one of those chores that has to be done, like having the oil changed in the car.  These chores aren’t fun, but they are worth doing in the long term.

When we’re done, it looks like this:

—–

I’m always surprised at the heartiness of weeds.  They can withstand almost any condition.  I find weeds growing out of cracks in cement sometimes.   I wonder how (and why) a life form evolves like that.  (This is what Biology majors think about when they weed.  I guess Mathematics majors think about how many weeds there are).

The flower beds look good right now.  That will last about two weeks.  Then the weeds will come back.

But I’m going to enjoy our weed-free status while it lasts.

—–

My life needs weeding sometimes, too.  Every few months, I need to go through my life (my physical life, and my spiritual life) and weed.

The physical weeding is easy.  I drop stuff in a desk drawer when I don’t want to deal with it.  Every few weeks, that drawer fills up, and then I have to deal with it.

My spiritual life needs weeding too, except that it isn’t so obvious when the drawer “fills up”.  A good rule of thumb is that if I’m thinking about bolting a grenade launcher on my car in order to deal with rush-hour traffic, then my spiritual life needs some attention.  Then I know it’s time to get together with family and friends, and deal with my spiritual weeds.

Hal