I’m lost, entangled in thick, overgrown weeds which wrap around me like a blanket. Except this blanket is thorny and every move I make is painful. I’m quickly becoming overcome by them, the life inside slowly being choked away.
I try to free myself enduring pain with every move. And yet, every time I think I might finally untangle myself from one weed, five more spring up. There’s no way to fight them. They are too plentiful, too strong, too sharp. And so, instead of fighting, I become like them, invading space recklessly and squeezing the life out of everything around me.
But I feel so heavy. There is no freedom to be found, just a new trap, a new burden. Where can I find the freedom? Is it in surrendering? But what if the surrender brings nothing but death? I can’t see hope past these weeds.
Where is the hope? I’ve read that God works all things for the good of those who love Him. But this doesn’t feel good. Everything aches and feels like death. Is this how Jesus felt in the garden that night as he shed tears of blood. The agony in knowing he needed to surrender to such pain. The willingness to follow His father’s will even to the point of death. If I surrender, will it be any easier?
Maybe not. But maybe in drawing closer to the Father, I will see hope and gain the strength needed to endure the battle. So, in the middle of the thick and thorny weeds, I cry out to my Father and wait for Him to hear my call.