The dandelion wars

And to say that I’m, um, anal about ridding them is an understatement. Like a hunter, I am on the prowl for them as I make my regular rounds. When I find one, I gear up with weed killer, a long dagger and a don’t-stop-me look in my eye. Pity the weed.

The red house we lived in, the one on 9th, had a nice lawn, thanks to my efforts and the grumbled mowing of my sons. But neither of the neighbors on either side had the same ethic. Their green was riddled with yellow. Theirs was now enemy turf and they were lofting para-troopers in an all-out aerial assault on my green dream. 

This was war. I wore camouflage over my flannel. Armed with a 20-foot single sprayer I targeted the evil flowers through the slats in my fence. Like a sniper, I took them out one by one. 

You see, their problem was becoming mine. And if I hadn’t been vigilant, my especially fertile soil would have welcomed the invaders.  

And today I’m reminded that my life isn’ t lived in a vacuum. When one part of the body suffers, we all do. 

Those of us who live by faith need to focus on ridding the weeds in our backyards before they infect our neighbors. We cannot run independently. My sin isn’t just my own. It has hurt others. It has cost people to trust a little less.   

When I am grumpy, the whole family adopts my attitude. When I am negative at work, there is a heaviness in the air. One bad egg at church can disrupt a whole congregation. We all affect each other.

Joining in with Nebraska Graceful on her Here it On Sunday, Use it on Monday Some great links!