Lessons From the Garden: Bothersome Pests and Welcome Guests

Sometimes while I'm turning the earth in my garden, I suddenly see a glossy pinkish thread slipping for his life away from the danger of my trowel. It always makes me smile to know my garden is patrolled by earthworms. I know the soil is being enriched by their presence, quietly and secretly under the ground. Grubs and slugs are no uglier than earthworms, but I have a very different reaction when I find them in my garden. My nose reflexively wrinkles up, and I squeamishly remove or mercilessly destroy the invaders.

In the realm of lovelier species, I have long regarded ladybugs as a sign of good luck. As a long-time rose gardener, I have come to appreciate the assistance they render in removing pesky aphids from the tender forming buds. Bees are welcome with their fuzzy little bodies that aid in pollination. Butterflies and moths, though often just as beautiful, are a mixed blessing and curse, as they both help with pollination, but bring with them their voracious young, who can lay waste to even the healthiest plant.

So obviously, you can't judge a bug by it's cover. Nor can we judge the people we let into our lives simply based upon their appearance. We have to know a little more about their character, what they stand for, and what they do before we decide whether we can safely welcome them into our lives, or cautiously guard ourselves from their influence. Likewise, we should not turn someone out of our life's garden just because they are less stylish or attractive by the world's standards. Quiet, consistent friends, like the humble earthworm, labor faithfully beneath the surface and enrich our lives so the seeds of our faith have a fertile place to grow.

Lessons from the Garden: Weeds

For the past month, I have loved getting up early every morning and working in the garden that I've longed to have for years. I have even abandoned my usual morning workout routine in favor of weeding, pruning and dreaming of all the things I intend to plant and cultivate. It feeds my soul to work out there in the dirt, and I easily see how Mary Lennox was able to heal not only herself, but all of Misselthwaite Manor through the simple act of gardening.

As I've worked, I've thought over the countless analogies that abound in gardens. I could probably write a whole series of blogs about them, but we'll start with one and see where it takes us.

Since I've spent so much time weeding lately, we'll start with that. Weeds make an obvious symbol of our flaws, our bad habits, our sins, and the things that distract us from our highest goals and purposes. Obviously, we don't want them in our garden, and it seems the gardener's work is never really done when it comes to weeding. As I've mentioned, in the month we have lived here, most of my gardening time has been spent pulling out the jungle of weeds that had grown in the time this house has been left vacant. Now that I finally feel like I have a grip on the situation, I also have some thoughts about weeds and the act of weeding:

You've got to get it by the root. It's no good just plucking the leaves above the surface, the ones everyone can see. The first thing I learned as a kid working in the yard with my dad was, you've got to dig deeper and get the root, or that baby will just keep popping back up. Morning glory is my particular enemy right now because it tenaciously grows deep and long, and it seems like no matter how deep you try to dig, there's more root down there. It's no good just trying to cover up our personal flaws, bad habits and sins by trying to keep the public from ever seeing them, or try to overcome them by a superficial edit. We have to dig deep, sometimes where it really hurts and get to the root of the problem. I love the part of C S Lewis' "The Dawn Treader" where the boy, Eustace, has been turned into a dragon and desperately wants to be a boy again. Aslan tells him to take a bath, but first he must "undress". As much as the dragon-boy tries on his own, he can't remove the dragon skin. He always finds another layer of skin underneath. Aslan finally offers to assist him, and he cuts deep to remove it. The process is painful, but vastly relieving, like the liberating pain of picking off an old scab. We have to dig deep to get out the weeds.

In a similar vein, it's best to get the weed as soon as it pops up. The longer you wait, the more a weed can get out of control. The root goes deeper, and the leaves have more chance to nourish and strengthen it. If you wait too long, it might also go to seed, and spread its posterity all over your garden, making your job tens or hundreds of times harder. Catch it early. As soon as we recognize a flaw is the time to do something about it. We shouldn't just close our eyes to it, or make excuses for it, or heaven forbid, flaunt it. "That's just the way I am" is never a good excuse.

Lastly, I heard someone say once that even a rose planted in the wrong place is nothing more than a weed. Sometimes we need to root out things that might seem pretty or enjoyable, but they don't belong there. Our lives can be filled up with good things that are a distraction from the best things. For instance, we might spend too much time working on a good project at the expense of our families. Taking care of these kinds of "weeds" requires a little extra planning. If your garden has no real "plan" then you will never recognize these kinds of weeds. But when we take time to look at the big picture, make a plan, and realize something needs to move to make room for something better, then we can start to do the kind of landscaping that will make our gardens the most beautiful and pleasing.

Happy weeding!