What if we are supposed to have weeds in our lawn?

I just wrapped up my 3rd mowing of the season. There is something nice about having fresh lines on the grass, and something calming about the task. On the other hand, having to revisit this practice weekly can sometimes be a pain. Did you know that until 150 years ago, no one really mowed grass?

But as I was mowing I noticed, not for the first time, that my neighbor has a cleaner yard. What I mean to say is that he doesn’t have many weeds. He has a guy come out regularly and treat the grass with chemicals to help it grow thick and green and healthy. This treatment kills off any weeds, and indirectly kills a ton of insects. While the surface looks nice, the soil suffers, and needs to continue being fertilized. The cycle continues. Around here, that is pretty normal.

But our yard is not so. We have almost as many weeds as we do grass. We have violets, dandelions, creeping charlie, white clover, chickweed, crabgrass, etc. Our yard would not make a magazine cover. And many would look at it and assume we just don’t care.

Apart from my not wanting to spend money on dumping chemicals on my yard, and my lack of understanding of this obsession, we actually have chosen to maintain most of the weeds. Over the course of the spring and summer, our lawn blooms with purples and whites and yellows. We attract all kinds of butterflies, bees, and birds. Pollinators are visit our yard. If you look at it with the right eyes, its actually quite stunning.

And in that rebellious spirit, we don’t fit in. Our decision is often mistaken for disregard, rather than intentional choice. To the untrained eye, the flowers in our lawn are regarded as ugly weeds needing to be extinguished.

It’s similar in many communities. Its pretty normal to do anything necessary to appear cleaned up and healthy. Hours and dollars are invested in the desire to appear put-together. Social media highlight reels, hair coloring, HGTV style home remodels, super clean cars, and magazine-worthy decor often hide what is really there. While not necessarily wrong in and of themselves, they are often fig leaves, hiding the insecurities, shame, and heartaches that make us real.

Consider the difference between coming across a mountain valley dappled with wildflowers, contrasted with rolling manicured fields. Sure, the fields look “nice,” but which stirs your heart? Which draws you into curiosity, awe, and wonder? It is the imperfections–the unintentionally planted, undomesticated places–that hold the truer beauty.

The same is true of you and I. The unique struggles, imperfections, and wrestlings we wear when we aren’t masking up are the key to experiencing the gospel. They need to be seen and responded to. The glory of God shines through our cracks more than our makeup.

What have you been doing to remove the appearance of weeds and enter self-protection mode?

How might you allow yourself to be more “weedy” in the presence of others?

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Cody Buriff, Chief of Resources and Experiences