When You Need Some Space
He bought me out to a spacious place;
he rescued me because he delighted in me.
The spring sunshine is warm this morning, and I watch from the kitchen window as my friend tends her garden. She kneels among the flowerbeds, diligently pulling out the couch grass, wholly absorbed in her task.
We talk about how this weed spreads rapidly, how it gets all tangled up in the roots of the flowers. It chokes the life out of all that is beautiful, this innocuous looking grass.
Later on, the results of the morning’s work are obvious. Each plant has been nurtured with care and given the space to grow. The rich, brown soil, now clear of weeds, provides the perfect backdrop to show off the golden daffodils and pale primroses in all their elegance and charm.
I think about the things that tangle me up: lies I believe, shame, insecurities. I can see how they get entwined round my thoughts and emotions, invading my attitudes and reactions. It’s clear they need to go.
God, the original gardener, is not afraid of the work. He willingly stoops down to kneel in the mud of my life and get his hands dirty. It is a hard and sometimes painful process. It feels like being stripped away, almost like a loss. But perhaps there is now scope for me to become rooted and established in a deeper way that before. Perhaps this newly created space is giving me the room to flourish and grow.
In the garden, I catch sight of the daffodils and primroses in the spring breeze, nodding their heads to the glory of God.