“Speak to the earth and it will teach you.”
{Job 12:8 NIV}

Between my garage and back door runs a long narrow porch, brown-painted decking less than six feet wide. It’s less the kind of space where you’re inclined to sit a spell — though that didn’t stop us from parking our weathered garden bench right in the middle — and more a covered breezeway to shield you from the elements. In Macon, slap in the middle of Georgia, that means blistering sun or torrential downpour, the kind sliced by thunder and lighting. Snow is a novelty if we’re lucky enough to get any at all. We’ve been in this home just over two years, and there’s no telling how many times I’ve made that trek from my house to our garage or our garage to the house.

We inherited wrought iron window boxes from our home’s previous owners, two for the back porch and a pair for the front; they hang on the railing that runs adjacent to the porch. Every spring I’ve filled them with annuals that can tolerate direct sun for most of the day. That eastern exposure sure is imposing; Miss Sunshine long outlasts a friendly welcome.

This is about the extent of my gardening; my thumbs are the opposite of green.

These annuals are demanding little creatures, begging for water every day (imagine that). If I’m away, or say, more likely, forget, they get pouty and play dead. They remind me of little drama queens, wilty and depressed when they don’t get their watery way.

Except that one plant I didn’t even plant, the tenacious stalk that shoots up through two slats of decking. No matter how many times we clip her back, cut her down, or (try to) yank her through the deck, she returns healthier than ever. If plants could talk, this one would be getting the last word, and I’m pretty sure she’d be laughing all the while.

And here’s the thing: What once was an ugly nuisance to me has become an object of affection. How could this possibly be?

Our little porch weed preaches Jesus to me.

Scripture indicates our God is a jealous God who longs for an undivided heart {see Matthew 6:24, 1 Kings 18:21, Isaiah 29:13, 1 John 2:15}.

My experience has been that He’ll allow circumstances in our lives that compel us to seek Him; or maybe it’s simply the consequences of our poor choices that drive us to our knees.

Too often when life is going well, we rely on our own strength and what we can accomplish or manipulate. Ah . . . but when life isn’t going well, it seems easier to recognize our need for a loving, compassionate God who is at work in the midst of our circumstances.

In Romans, Paul explains:

And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose. {Romans 8:28 NASB}

Don’t you know that God is delighted when running to Him is our first response?

God lavishes us with every spiritual blessing, but sometimes when you need it most, He’ll surprise you with a spectacular miracle right outside your front door (I still marvel at that one).  While my tenacious weed isn’t exactly a miracle, over time and in a myriad of ways, it reminds me of what I already know, truths in Scripture, and how they’re fleshed out in the dailiness of life —

Be persistent. Matthew 7:7-12 — Ask . . . seek . . . knock. Seeing my weed return regardless of how hard we try to get rid of her reminds me to be intentional in my pursuit of Christ; I have a relentless enemy who wants nothing more than to kill, steal, and destroy what God has for me. Oh, how the Lord desires intimacy with Him!

Be fully me. In spite of all the benefits and wonderful people the internet has brought into my life, it’s also a place where I’ve been deeply wounded. Real or imagined slights, marginalization, being left out or forgotten, all those feelings of not enough-ness or less than-ness have been a tool of defeat in the hands of an enemy. As I’ve watched that crazy weed return again and again, I’ve noticed her uncommon beauty and extraordinary strength stemming from her completely embracing what she is. We, you and I, have uncommon beauty and extraordinary strength because of Whose we are. Each one of us is wonderfully made, a one-of-a-kind masterpiece created for a purpose.

Bloom where you’re planted. Proverbs 16:3-4, Jeremiah 29:11 — My porch weed has almost no light and I’ve never watered or fertilized it; regardless, it’s the healthiest, blasted plant I own (though, technically, I don’t “own” it). This has been the loudest sermon preached from my weed, the one my heart most needs to hear; to believe that if I’m in this place or that place, it is for my good and God’s glory. Even if I would never choose the circumstances or place or job or whatever I’m in, I can flourish if I’m seeking God {see Matthew 6:33}.

Not so long ago, I subtly resisted God by thrashing against my circumstances; I affectionately refer to that season as my wandering in the desert. Only now can I look back and understand many of the “Why’s” of that time, and though I never want to re-live it, I’m thankful for how it changed me.

It’s hard to admit, but I wasn’t seeking God; instead, I was begging for change, for relief, to be transplanted. As a result I gained a glimpse of Holy wisdom, and now when I catch myself wishing for something I don’t have but think I want, I ask God to give me His heart, to enable me to trust that His way is best.

Is it any wonder that God, Creator of heaven and earth, might leave us reminders that speak to who He is and how we’re to live? That an ordinary weed can “speak” to a needy, forgetful, or sometimes wandering heart?

If you happen upon my back porch one day, you might just hear a timely Word before you reach the back door.

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