He knelt down in the gravel, purposefully digging in the rock bed that houses the welcome sign for the entrance to my neighborhood. His presence there was unexpected. He was, after all, part of the work crew responsible for digging ditches and placing new gas lines on the road connecting to my street. His job description didn’t include the added responsibility of weeding neglected rock beds; still and yet, he applied himself to the task. It didn’t take him long. A few pulls at the loosely tethered vines with a subsequent toss in the ditch was all it took to clean up the entryway. I nodded my thanks to him as I walked by. He simply smiled and got back to digging ditches.
And here I am, a couple of months later, still thinking about that scene. About neglected rock beds full of weeds. About an unexpected participant in the clean up process. About long hours beneath the heat of summer and ditches being dug. About walkers walking by. About welcome signs and what they really say about neighborhoods … what they really say about me.
You see, I am not so unlike that sign at the front of my neighborhood. I, too, have a welcome mat at the front door of my heart. The heated days of a summer gone by, coupled with the random seedlings that have landed in my rocky soil, have yielded some unwanted, yet tolerated weeds. Most days, I’ve walked right by them, barely noticing their growth. Weeds, after all, start small. Over time, however, they needle their way in and around the foundational cracks that cradle my heart. Left unattended, their intrusion grows to full height, and the beauty that once proclaimed a proper “welcome” is shrouded, instead, by the overgrowth of thorns and thistles never intended for sacred soil.
In these times of neglect, when what has grown in and around me remains unseen by me, I need an attentive ditch digger to come along and to offer his knees as well as his hands to the task of removal. Sometimes it takes a set of outside eyes to see what my inside soul is longing for …
A heart free from weedy entanglements.
What about you? What does your welcome mat look like today? Is your heart free from intrusion or is it, like mine, in need of a weeding by the Ditch Digger?
Each and every day the Maker of our lives walks by the front door of our hearts. He notices things that we often do not. He sees the soil beneath our feet, the rocks along our paths, the bricks that build our lives, the seeds that blow our way, and all the plantings therein. He applauds the beauty, but he applies himself to the ugly. He notices our weeds, and every now and again, his disdain for them leads him to cross the road, to bend the knee, and to apply his holy hands to their removal.
It’s been awhile now since I’ve allowed the Ditch Digger to dig without restraint within the soil of my heart. He is welcome here today. And while some of his pulls might be painful, ultimately, they will be fruitful.
A cleaned up welcome mat for a world that needs a solid place to stand. An entryway into an eternal kingdom. God’s neighborhood, where the streets are golden and where all are welcome. Thus, I pray…
Even so, let it begin with me, Lord. Come and dig out the weeds that have grown up in and around my heart over the summer months. Rid this sacred soil of anything that is preventing fruitfulness, that is choking out my faith, that is covering up your mercy, your grace, and your welcome through me to others. I see through a glass dimly, but you see perfectly. Humbly I ask you to root out the unseen and to replace it with a holy cleanness that reflects the radiance of your heavenly hands. Thank you for being in the neighborhood and for being willing to notice my need. Amen.