My garden, such as it is, does well with things that thrive on neglect. In keeping with this strategy, there are four spider plants hanging up and flourishing beautifully under the slight overhang of the garage. Er,…I mean they were, flourishing that is. One in particular was all but overflowing its expensive self-watering pot. And they all look(ed) really nice, too. This morning, to my non-gardener dismay, I noticed half of the biggest plant was missing, and the one next to it had only a forlorn spider baby hanging out of the side. This could only mean one thing.
The bane of all gardeners.
That deviant detriment of nature.
Those pusillanimous acrobats of pandemonium!!
To give context to my disappointment, understand that these four hardies had just weathered a bad storm that took down a sizable tree limb in the front yard, and the big spider plant in particular had recently survived a fall from its perch of about 15 feet when the hanger had snapped loose, (so much for expensive pots.) I risk life and limb when I do venture up a ladder to weed them, which is rare, but they’re worth it.
As aggravating as squirrels are to gardens, Satan does some of the same ravaging in people’s lives as well. Imagine our Father’s disappointment when, after careful weeding at His own expense (the cross, to name a big one), and after hanging us back up where we fell from once the faulty piece in us is fixed, AND after proudly enjoying how beautiful we are after successfully surviving a stormy season…He sees us torn apart. This is particularly true when we give in to our enemy’s temptations. The “babies” are gone; that is, the new life that was dependent on our own spiritual growth. The beauty is deformed, much of it laying in the dirt. The only things left are the roots.
Hey, hold on a minute! Did somebody say “the roots”?!
By the way, have you ever seen the roots of a spider plant? You want to talk about massive! Thick, white, gnarly looking things—ugly, really—that literally take over the pot. But the important thing—they’re alive! And if the root is still alive, then so is the plant.
I have hope in my spider plants, they are resilient and tough. And this is by far one of the most beautiful parts of God’s people also, a heritage worth embracing. Just look at the roster of once-fallen heroes of the faith: King David (adultery/murderer), Moses (murderer), Gideon (coward), Thomas (doubt-ridden), Job (well, I just love Job, he’s kinda in a class of his own…), and then there’s one of my personal favorites—Peter. Peter, the bluster butt that rashly vowed to die with Jesus, and instead promptly denied his Lord three times. (Not that I would have done any better.)
But the roots were good. And given the care needed, they came back better than ever.
Tomorrow’s assignment: fix the plants…again.