
I did a little long-overdue weeding of my cucumber patch and look what I found – a cucumber hidden by the weeds, over ripe and rotting on the ground.
My first thought was anger at myself for having missed it when it was green. If I had kept the weeds at bay, if I had been more diligent in training the cucumbers to the climbing cage, if, if, if. We’ve all done that, or, at least, I hope I’m not the only one who does that. But who knows why I missed it. It doesn’t change the fact that I did. Coulda, woulda, shoulda, didn’t.
It’s got me thinking about other kinds of fruit that could be hidden under other kinds of weeds.
I’m in the middle of a rather large purchase of lake front property right now, and it has me anxious. I know, do not be anxious about tomorrow, but I really want this to happen and am missing my husband. I am riddled with concern that I am messing it up or forgetting something vitally important or making a huge mistake or biting off more than I can possibly chew. I am letting the weeds grow up.
As for what fell among the thorns, these are the ones who hear; but as they go along their way, they are choked by the cares and riches and pleasures of life, and their fruit does not mature. Luke 8:14.
Or it rots unseen.
When I am anxious, I tend to be short with people, easily agitated, impatient. Love and gentleness may be present in my life, but it is hidden when I am anxious. And if I don’t tend to these weeds now and let that fruit be seen, the opportunity to do so may be lost.
Because that cucumber when ripe would have been a blessing. I love cucumber sandwiches. I love to munch on crispy slices, plain or with a little basil. Cucumbers are a wonderful addition to corn salad or tossed salad. But the moment for that cucumber to be a blessing has passed. It was lost because I let it be hidden under the weeds.
Now and for the next few months I will be dealing with a host of new people, attorneys and landscapers, builders, surveyors, and the corps of engineers to make this lake property a reality. I will have many opportunities to bear the Spirit’s fruit and further the kingdom, or hide that fruit under the weeds of anxiety, the cares and pleasure of life. And if that fruit is hidden now, it may never have the opportunity to bless the person for whom God is growing it.
Perhaps this rotting cucumber is calling me to weed now and avoid the coulda, woulda, shoulda of missed opportunity.
Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving, let your requests be known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:6-7.
I pick the rotting cucumber and add it and the pulled weeds to the compost pile. God can turn even our failures into blessing. And I head inside to spend some time weeding my soul as I have weeded the garden.
Love in Christ, Betsy