On Pulling up Volunteers
It’s hard for me to pull volunteer plants in my garden. Whether it’s cosmos or gloriosa daisies sprouting like a green carpet around their parent plant or the weird pumpkin-zucchini-spaghetti squash hybrids that appear in the compost pile, I know I must, but it feels cruel to snatch the miracle of life from these thriving seedlings.
Last year I noticed that my life was like my gardens; there were things planned and planted, but lots of other good things sprouted up too, and instead of prioritizing and removing them, I was just running around trying to water it all. There are furniture projects piled up in my garage, stacks of books that never get read, clothes that don’t get worn or donated, art supplies that don’t get used, stuff, stuff, stuff! My schedule is just as cluttered; because I work from home and can make time for helping people, I often spend more time doing that than working in my studio.
The little volunteer tomatoes are wonderful! They usually don’t come up until my garden is planted, but when given proper space and care, they’ll outgrow and out-produce the nursery tomatoes which have a considerable head start. They produce fruit, which I eat, dry, make sauces with, freeze, can, etc., but if I let every volunteer tomato grow and spent my time caring for each one, they’d never mature or produce fruit.
It hurts to pull out perfect little plants, but if I let them grow, they’ll not only be crowded and fruitless in themselves, but they’ll steal nutrients from what's planted with a purpose. Letting all the volunteers grow is a feudal effort, a waste of time if you’re aiming for a harvest.
If my studio is crowded with old or unfinished paintings, I’m less likely to find the peace and mental clarity to create anything new or meaningful. With a closet crammed full of clothes, I’m more likely to keep wearing the last thing I put away. If my schedule is so full of “good things:” volunteering, helping others, happily applying myself to meeting every need, I’m not only unable to do what’s most important to me- to glorify God with my life and the work of my hands -art- through His work within me- but all the little “good things” I’m spending time on never get the time or attention they truly deserve. No fruit is produced.
In 2024, I will weed my gardens, my schedule and my closets, cupboards, shelves, spaces. I will identify sprouting seedlings and obligations not as “good or bad” but whether they will produce fruit for the glory of God or steal nutrients from my purpose. I will recognize that like volunteer tomatoes, a bunch of “good distractions” are harmful to the over-all yield of my surrendered life, and I’ll allow someone else to “tend those gardens.”
I will no longer pour myself out empty, but let the Lord’s Spirit overflow from within me to water what's around me with His Word and His Truth. I will keep my cup pointed up and remember my purpose.
The “Holy Wow” is two hours after writing this, our pastor spoke about Peter surrendering his boat as a platform for Jesus to address a crowd from, on identifying “boats” in our lives that can be platforms for Jesus and our faith. Peter surrendered his boat, and in time, went from the “foot in his mouth,” “denying Jesus” Peter of the Gospels to the bold, Spirit-filled Peter of Acts 4.
Sc 2/11/24