by Artist Eye
I recently had occasion to meditate on the nature of weeds. And just so you know, I wasn’t always sure exactly which were the weeds and which the plants of preference.
I’ll admit, at times, I found myself admiring the fragile beauty I was being asked to destroy. This, I said to myself, must be a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Then there were those plants I suspected of having some malicious intelligence; how did they know how to mimic the appearance of the acceptable plants and insinuate themselves so cleverly among their unwitting hosts? Questing beneath the soil surface for the roots of the most hardy specimens I felt strangely powerful unless those roots eluded me. Then I recalled the words of Jesus’ parable “surely some enemy has done this!”
The parable of the wheat and the tares, of course, bids me shift my focus off of my frivolous judgments and tend to the activity of my own soul which may at any given moment sprout unruly thoughts ranging from the untimely and inappropriate to those laden with malice and defying cultivation. My enemies indeed.