Ryanne Molinari

“All my flower beds are filled with this ivy,” I texted two of my friends this afternoon. “Should I pull it or let it be? It’s pretty but seems to be taking over…”

I snapped a picture to accompany my text, hoping as I sent it that my friends would reply, “Oh, that’s a rare and useful herb! You should let it flourish unchecked. If only I had some of that lovely plant!” But they answered with the negative truth that I dreaded yet expected: “That’s creeping Charlie. It’s will take over your yard if you don’t dig it up.”

I nearly threw down my gardening gloves in defeat. This is my fourth full summer in Iowa and the appeal of gardening has worn off for this born-and-raised Arizona girl. I would rather spend my sunny days reading on the porch or running a new trail than pulling weeds that regenerate like Hydra heads with each rain.

But in Iowa, gardening is not a choice; it’s a fact of life unless you want to be the overgrown neighbor who drives everyone else’s property values down. And so, to love my neighbors and care for my home, I am forced to combat the creeping advance of my new enemy, Charlie, and his weedy minions.

But Charlie and the Creeps (band name, called it!) have taken so much ground in this battle that I have no hope of conquering them alone. Thankfully, before I crumbled to the earth in despair, my gardening friends both offered to help: “Put a bunch of water on the flower beds so the ground is soft enough to dig and we’ll attack it on Monday.”

These lifelong gardeners are undaunted. Their botanical knowledge and horticultural experience have prepared them to be generals in this war of the weeds. They know what to do and are ready to stand by me as I face the ancient foe: the cursed ground of Genesis 3:17.

Bolstered by the promise of help, I began pulling the taller weeds. As I yanked stems and vines from the earth, I meditated on gardening and friendship. As much as I do not enjoy gardening, I am grateful for the spiritual truths it reveals. (The conclusion of my book, Spirit-Filled Singing: Bearing Fruit as We Worship Together centers around gardening as an analogy for fruitful worship.) Having to do yard work has not made me a better gardener, but is has made me a more thoughtful person.

Today, I was reminded of the dangers of unchecked “weeds”—even pretty ones like Charlie. Sure, weeds bear flowers and bring some benefits such as visits from pollinators, but they can also take over and cause extensive collateral damage. The creeping Charlie in my yard has attracted grubs, which are attracting rodents of unknown species (ROUS’s, for you Princess Bride fans), which are digging up our grass. I should have nipped this vine in the literal bud while I had the chance, but now killing it is going to be a summer-long campaign.

More positively, though, I was reminded of how desperately we need friends who will tell us when something pretty in our lives isn’t actually fruitful. I’ve seen posters and shirts depicting dandelions that read, “Some see a weed; I see a wish.” Really, though, we need gardening friends who will tell us when what we see as a flower is actually a weed.

We need friends who will challenge us not to be lazy when it comes to pruning things from our lives. I was hoping my friends would tell me the weeds in my yard were not a big deal, that I should leave them and go back to my reading. But they were honest enough to tell me that these vines would take over my garden beds but my entire lawn if left unchecked. Like it or not, I needed to grab my shovel and get to work.

But it is easy to take a “hit-and-run” approach to truth-telling. My friends could have identified the creeping Charlie, told me to dig it up, and left the group chat without ever getting their own hands dirty. Instead, they offered to help me take care of it on Monday morning. We need friends who will not only be honest with us about our “weeds” but go out of their way to help us pull them up. Likewise, when we confront others about something wayward in their lives, we need to be ready to help them get back on track even if it costs us our time, energy, and resources.

We all need “gardening friends”—friends who are discerning, truthful, and helpful. We need friends who recognize a weed for what it is, are bold enough to tell us, and are ready to help us uproot it. But the onus is not entirely on our friends. We must intentionally befriend wise, experienced, honest, and helpful people. We must reject the idea that friendship is based solely on pleasure and welcome friends who will tell us the truth. We must be humble enough to ask for and accept their honesty and help.

Without “gardening friends,” what hope do we of have in maintaining orderly, fruitful lawns—let alone lives?