Bitter Sweet

I had my eyes set on a picturesque herb and wildflower garden, with a comfy bench in the perfect shade spot where I could spend sometime meditating. Everything was mapped out, tools were gathered, starter plants and seeds all carefully selected. Three weeks previously my father in law had taken the rotatiller through and out of a labour of love had prepared this wild chosen plot ready for planting. Sleeves rolled up, I began to do the last minute grooming. I began to pull out what I thought were some quick growing, easy to pluck weeds. To my dismay within minutes I was up to my armpits deep underground trying to find the root ends of this hidden mass of entangled roots. It wasn't long before I realized that some previous hidden horseradish had managed to take over the entire plot with most of the ambush not visible to the casual onlooker. As my determination to rid my precious garden of this ruthless invader began to whane after an hour of blood, sweat and some tears, I took a few minutes to reagin some compsure and to capture a second breath. I lay back on the sunbaked earth, took in a couple of deep breaths and exhaled some major frustrations. It was in that moment that the epiphany struck. God had more than one reason to instruct his children to use horseradish as a bitter memory for Passover. Some roots of this destable plant were burried more than three feet underground, but the original source was no bigger than a small pea. Something so minute left unattended was threatening the life of everything else around it. What a powerful visual picture of the reality of how the tiniest resentment left unattended within my soul can silently choke out the light, life and spirit of Christ within me. It has become a sweet reminder that is now rooted and planted deep within my soul. pjsister