Eighth Sunday after Pentecost

A few years ago, Helen was very much enjoying a garden in our backyard, and the garden was there when we moved into the home, but Helen was tending it taking care of it, adding additional plants and making it look really nice.

And it was something she really cared about much more than I did.

But one day when she was very busy but the garden needed some weeding, she asked would I go pull some weeds.

So I smiled and said yes somewhat reluctantly, put on my work clothes and my work gloves and went out into the back garden.

And as I began to pull weeds, I actually began to feel really good about myself because I was making a pile, a mound of weeds so she could see how many I had pulled and I could get a good job at the end of this.

But as I continued to pull weeds more and more, it was actually starting to feel good because it was looking so nice.

It was tidy and neat and clean.

And by my framing, it looked the best that it ever looked.

And this mound of what was now hundreds of weeds beside me was enough that I could go get Helen to come see the good work that I had done.

And she followed me out, and I was so proud, but her first words were, "'Oh, no, you pulled all of the sweet potato vines.'" And she explained to me that the purpose of the sweet potato vines, that they were a form of ground cover that actually keeps the weeds from coming up into the garden.

And I had removed all of those, and that's why it was so neat and tidy and clean.

And I found myself very much in that moment saying to myself, I don't know enough to be doing this.

Thank you, God, I'm not the gardener in the family.

Thank you, God, I'm not the gardener in the family.