There’s a stretch along the fence line that separates a field from our walk that always catches my attention. It looks harmless from a distance… but step too close, and you’ll see it.
Thistles.
Weeds.
The kind that stick to your fur and won’t let go without a fight.
I wandered a little too close and I came back with a few reminders tangled in my coat. So, my human knelt down and patiently started pulling them off me.
Didn’t rush.
Didn’t pull too hard.
Just careful… steady… knowing if he pulled too fast, he might hurt me worse than the thorns already had.
And as I sat there, trying my best to be still, I got to thinking…
That’s a lot like what the God does.
Jesus once told a story about a field—good seed planted by a good farmer. But while everyone slept, an enemy came and scattered weeds among the wheat.
When the plants began to grow, the servants noticed the mess and asked if they should pull up the weeds right away.
But the farmer said:
“‘No,’ he answered, ‘because while you are pulling the weeds, you may uproot the wheat with them. Let both grow together until the harvest…’”
- Matthew 13:29-30 NIV
Sometimes what looks like a weed isn’t so easy to separate from the good stuff.
Sometimes the roots are all twisted together beneath the surface where nobody can see.
And if you pull it too soon, too hard… you might do more harm than good.
The heart can grow thistles too.
Not the kind that stick in your fur like the ones I found… but the kind that grow when we let things sit too long—Unforgiveness…
Worry…
Pride…
Bitterness…
Lust…
All distractions that crowd out what God planted.
Sitting in that quiet moment while the thistles were being pulled free, a thought came to mind:
God is not in a hurry the way we are.
He sees the whole field—
The wheat and the weeds,
The roots and the fruit,
The mess and the masterpiece still becoming.
And instead of ripping everything up at once, He works with patience… with care… with perfect timing.
He knows which roots are ready… and which ones need a little more time before they can come out without tearing up something good along with them.
So He tends the field.
He watches.
He waits.
And when the time is right… He gathers.
When my human finished, my coat was clean. The thistles were gone, tossed aside where they couldn’t stick to me anymore.
I gave a good shake and an old dog smile…
Grateful.
Relieved.
And free.
Maybe you’ve got a few thistles clinging to you today.
Maybe there are weeds in your field that seem to grow faster than the good stuff.
Don’t lose heart.
The Farmer hasn’t forgotten you.
He’s not careless.
He’s not late.
He’s patient.
And He knows exactly how to pull what needs to be pulled… without losing what He’s growing in you.
I know I’m just an old dog… but I trust the hands that care for me.
Maybe we all should do the same.
Keep the Faith… Carpe Diem
