When we moved into our house five years ago, we discovered quickly that the previous owners had an interesting way of landscaping. Through our first summer, we found that they had an interest in very large plants that almost anyone would consider weeds, and they planted a lot of different plants very closely together. So over the past five summers, I (we) have dug up, relocated, added, and/or pruned all of the plants around our house at least once. And, most likely, to my husband’s dismay, this process will probably continue into next year and so on until there’s nothing more to be done (which may be never).

There is a particular bush, though, that does not work at all with my Type A personality, and is constantly annoying me. It’s a rose bush. But it’s not the actual bush that gets to me (they are very pretty and low maintenance). It’s the tree that is growing up in the middle of it. It’s obvious one of the previous owners had planted, either knowingly or unknowingly, rose bushes over a tree that had not been fully dug up. This tree - whatever kind it is - is strong, relentless, and deep-rooted; it’s bothersome, kind of ugly and nearly impossible to get through the thorns of the rose bushes surrounding it. As I was getting rid of another very irritating plant (thistles) the other day, I realized that we all have our share of deep-rooted, annoying trees that constantly pop up in our lives.

It doesn’t really matter what that tree is. It could be something in our past, a tendency or personality trait, or even a chronic illness. Whatever it is, as we mature and our lives grow like the rose bush, as beautiful as it may appear from the outside, that tree will continue to show its ugly branches and leaves until it’s dealt with. It cycles through every season - it is hidden during the colder months and then reappears during the spring and summer, continuing year after year.  And just like that rose bush, sometimes we will go about our lives in such a way that, although it isn’t our intentions, we end up protecting that ugly issue. We learn to adapt and we automatically create defense mechanisms, or thorns, that may be unhealthy but get the job done so that we can function somewhat in society.

The daunting aspect of the tree in the bush is the solution. In order to dig up the tree, we have to dig up the rose bush too. But that’s really the only scary part. Rose bushes are hearty; they can survive out of the dirt (with a little TLC) for the time that’s needed to uproot the tree. And then when all the roots have been dug and the soil has been tended to, the rose bush can be replanted. After a little extra water and sun, it will appear as if the rose bush had never moved; it will continue to grow and flourish, this time without the tree taking any of its nutrients or interrupting the beauty of the roses.

One of the best parts, but also one of the most difficult parts, of committing to and living a Christ-led life is the internal work that has to be done. The pain, resentment, past trauma, anger, character flaws, and so on that have taken root in our hearts continually pop up and cannot be covered up or planted over. They can hinder the growth of our relationships with God and restrict how God can use us. The tree must be dug up and removed, but we have to have the tools and wisdom to effectively get all the roots out. The good news is that God is an excellent gardener. He knows the intricacies and shape of the tree roots. He knows about us rose bushes, too - how much we can take without being damaged and how strong our own roots are. He knows what tools we need, like prayer and the Word, and makes them readily available to us. He also provides the right environment for us to thrive in, and surrounds us with the right friends, family, therapists, doctors, pastors, and church family.

Once we have dug out that ugly tree, the soil must be filled into the hole that was left behind; a healing must take place. God is our healer and He has graciously given us access to peace, joy, love, and even eternal life, we just have to do the work and remain obedient to receive it. In Psalm 51, David asked the Lord to create in him “a clean spirit, and renew a right and steadfast spirit within” him (v. 10 AMP). But David knew God had to dig up and remove some inner “trees” first:

My [only] sacrifice [acceptable] to God is a broken spirit; A broken and contrite heart [broken with sorrow for sin, thoroughly penitent], such, O God, You will not despise. (v. 17)

So I guess you’re probably wondering why I haven’t just dug up the tree. I suppose my answer would be because it takes a lot of work; time, effort, and energy all need to be allocated toward doing it. Quite honestly, it’s easier to just leave it there. I could continue trying to hack at it every summer or let it overtake the rose bushes. Regardless, it will disrupt the beauty of the roses, and it will remain a nuisance if I don’t do something about it. This summer, the decision must be made on whether it’s worth it to dig everything up. And that’s the choice we all have to make - will we continue to let our “trees” disrupt our lives or will we put in the work to get rid of it once and for all so we can truly enjoy the beauty of our roses?