weeds.

Pulling weeds is a novelty to me. 

It's one of those mindless chores that can either be refreshing or downright irritating depending on your perspective or current mood.

Today it was a refreshing break from the mental tasks I've been preoccupied with and I enjoyed my time in the sunshine with some old playlists (reminiscent of my preteens when I discovered that Jesus music was the coolest thing ever).

I remembered a conversation I had with a close friend a couple of weeks ago involving the word "weeds." It all came about because of a slip of the tongue, which, if you know me, shouldn't come as a surprise. 

I was telling her about my good, but emotionally exhausting day. Attempting to make a comment about how much I hated exposing my weaknesses and needs to other people, I combined the two words and brought new meaning to the word weeds. I jumped on the opportunity to make an illustration and went off on a tangent about how my weaknesses and needs often do feel like weeds in my life. Most days I wish I could pluck them out, create a large burn pile, and set them ablaze, never to be seen or heard from again. 

This attitude of distaste for my weakness and neediness is one that God has been digging at and rooting out of me for several years. Ok, so maybe my whole life and it's just been painfully evident lately. 

I don't like feeling weak. I don't like feeling needy. 

Heaven forbid the reality hits me that I actually am weak and needy. 

My sense of self sufficiency is killing me, because truth says that I'm not invincible. Or perfect. Or self sufficient for that matter. 

I'm just me. 

I get tired. I get hurt. I get stressed and upset. These days my emotions seem to be riding tsunami-scale waves with tears enough to fill the ocean. My muscles are weak. And don't get me started on my faith...

There's so much that I don't know, so much I haven't learned, and so much that no matter how hard I try I just can't fix. 

So far, no amount of wishing myself perfect has worked and my effort to make it so has only made a fool of me. There comes a point when I can no longer escape the reality of my weeds and I'm good and tired of trying.

When I reach the end of myself God gives me this liberating truth: 

I was never meant to be strong on my own. 

Well, isn't that lovely. Gold star. I feel so much better now.

After the initial blow to my pride though, this really is a truth that sets me free. Free from the pressure and the fear and the striving to be (or at least) appear strong and put together. 

I can hang up the "pretending-to-be-God" hat and let Him be who He is so I can just be me. 

He's strong. He doesn't have needs that I am responsible to meet. Not only that, but He has the perfect provision to meet my needs effortlessly. 

Unlike me, it isn't hard for Him to be God. He doesn't get tired of it or need a break. Ever. But that isn't even the best part. 

Here's what's been wrecking my world lately:

God isn't irritated with my weakness. He isn't frustrated by my needs. 

He cares. 

He's a good dad and my so-called weeds move Him to compassion. 

His strong arms catch me when I finally give up the fight to keep my head above water. 

He loves me when I'm cranky, when I'm exhausted, when I feel an extreme deficit in the area of positive emotion. 

He loves me when I can't take one more step. When I'm crumpled on the floor and nothing seems to matter anymore. 

He loves me when my pride trips me and I fall on my face.

He loves me. All of me. Weaknesses and needs (or weeds, as I like to call them) make the complete package. 

At my invitation He rushes in to meet me wherever I am. 

He fills the caverns of my needy soul. He drenches the driest deserts of my heart. He infuses resurrection power into the forgotten areas of me that I had long ago labeled hopeless and dead. 

This is my God.

My God, who never ever gets sick of me no matter how many times I get fed up with myself. 

My Father, who holds me together when I feel like I am being torn apart from the inside out. 

My Abba, whose love anchors me when the storms rage in my imperfect world. 

He is good. 

With my empty hands lifted high I will bring my weak and needy self to Him to find once again that my messy heart is intimately known and loved, weeds and all. 

This really is a liberating truth. 

One that I plan to return to over and over and over again. 

As for me, I am poor and needy,

    but the Lord takes thought for me.

You are my help and my deliverer;

    do not delay, O my God! - Psalm 40:17

Just as a father has compassion on his children,

So the Lord has compassion on those who fear Him.

For He Himself knows our frame;

He is mindful that we are but dust. -Psalm 103:13-14

Therefore humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God, that He may exalt you at the proper time, casting all your anxiety on Him, because He cares for you. - 1 Peter 5:6-7

And my God will supply all your needs according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus. - Philippians 4:19

He has said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness.” Most gladly, therefore, I will rather boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me. Therefore I am well content with weaknesses, with insults, with distresses, with persecutions, with difficulties, for Christ’s sake; for when I am weak, then I am strong. - 1 Corinthians 12:9-10