That I Could Imitate the Weed

“As each one has received a gift, use it to serve one another as good stewards of God’s varied grace.”—1 Peter 4:10

Years ago, waiting downtown for a passing train, I noticed a cluster of weeds peering from an impenetrable overpass wall. That day, I changed my mind about weeds as I considered how they took root and grew in nearly impossible conditions. I wanted to tug on them to see if they would yield to pulling, to study what circumstances may have led them to root in this place.

Weeds are a source of constant work if you care about keeping them at bay, yet they have a perfect purpose in God’s creation. In nature, their job has been to try to repair damaged ground wherever the soil has been “broken.” They evolved to be tough and hardy, surviving all seasons. Early man ate “weeds” as crop plants.

I quit pulling dandelions from my lawn and purposely planted milkweed after that day. I tried dandelion greens in my salads and enjoyed Monarch butterflies munching on milkweed in the early morning before I left for work. They continue to grow back.

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us rid ourselves of every burden and sin that clings to us and persevere in running the race that lies before us.”—Hebrews 12:1

That cluster of weeds remained on the overpass for years but has long since been gone. I am certain its offspring grows exactly where it is meant to be, where the wind deposited it for someone else to draw strength and perseverance while considering the promise of weeds.

I wrote the poem below in honor of the weed.

Weeds

persistent pests

and yet

promises of enduring return.

Their dandelion wishes

scattered by passing winds

sustain the soul

while milkweed’s sacrifice of red and yellow pods

lures magnificent Monarchs.

That I could pluck resilience from the lowly weed!

Pull me through life’s ploughing field