Obedience in Pulling Weeds

He showed it to me. Such grace. 

His strong, capable arm, reaching in front of me, grabbing that big bunch of mangled ends. Skinny, but many. Strong, yet submitting. Pulling. Out!

I understood. Wasn't very excited about the process, but understood.

That prayer, back in the beginnings of colder days before the snow put the ground to sleep, He heard. He was listening. Bent down, listening. Maybe even smiling.

He is Faithful.

I've known fear all my life. LORD, I want to know you instead. He heard. He began weeding. Deep. Deeper. Deepest.

He is Perfect Gardner. 

The Israelites understood. Standing on that high water's edge. The one He brought them to. You can do it, put your toe in!

He calls us to obedience. No matter how high the water, how deep the root, how far away. If He led the way, obedience is the way through. To the other side. Promised Land!

He said I had to do it. I fought for weeks! Terrified. One trembling foot set out.
He said He would never leave me (Isaiah 41:10). He didn't. He was there the whole time. 
He said He would help me. He did! He was my strength. 

Clearing out the garden this morning, shovel going deep, He showed me again. You're weeding, little bird.

Yes, I am! Making room for new life. Blessed be His Name.