When Sunflowers Come Up Radishes

Now that I have a garden, this parable of the weeds and wheat makes sense. Because I’m still learning, I can’t tell the difference between a weed and something I’m intentionally growing. In early spring, I planted a bunch of seeds inside, and then later I transferred the little plants into my outside garden. When they’re that small every plant looks the same to me, but I expected to grow what I thought I planted. Eventually, I was surprised that my Mexican sunflowers were growing out rather that up. That’s weird, I thought. After a few weeks I looked again, and noticed a large red mass at the base of the plants. Wow, that looks like a radish. I looked closer. It was a radish. I sat in the garden and laughed and laughed. When I planted the sunflowers, a few radish seeds must have fallen in by accident. I have yet to get any sunflowers, but the radishes have pretty white flowers that complement the other flowers in the garden.

I told this story to a friend who’s an expert gardener, and she affirmed my decision to let the mystery plant grow even though it was not what I thought it was. She said she does that too. She never haphazardly pulls out plants. She never knows when she might get a volunteer flower or one she planted a long time ago that just took its time to grow. I felt less silly after she told me that, and when I read the parable about the weeds and wheat, I understand the farmer’s wisdom too. Early on you can’t tell what’s there, and so you let it grow so you don’t throw away something important.

This gardening wisdom is spiritual wisdom too. Things happen in my life – events, encounters with people, challenges – and in the moment it’s too soon to tell if it’s weed or wheat, a waste of time or something valuable. And as I have lived through a variety of different things, some enjoyable and some not, I’ve realized that almost nothing has been a weed. Everything eventually has some kind of meaning. Every challenge has some kind of necessary growth in it. I often think I know what I need from God or from life, but then I get something else instead. In my short-sighted vision, I can’t tell what’s a weed and what’s a plant. If I start throwing things away without knowing what they are, I might miss something valuable, and I can’t know what something is without a little time and discernment. So, I kind of just let it all grow. When God wants me to let something go or move on or make a change, God will let me know.

God does let me know, although sometimes it takes time for God’s will to become clear. That’s one annoying thing about the spiritual life, and I think it’s hard for lots of people, not just me. Part of the gift of being a vocation minister and a spiritual director is that I get to listen with people as they listen to God. I also get to see how God does eventually let people know when to let go or move toward something, and looking back, we can see which parts of life have been weeds and which have been wheat. Praying in hindsight usually reveals very few weeds and a lot of radishes we thought were sunflowers. There’s hardly anything that’s a waste, but there are a lot of things that were important but seemed like something else at first. All things, those that seem bad and those that seem good, are necessary parts of the garden. We let each living thing grow until we know how it is growing in us.

I believe this is wise, but it’s not easy to live this way. I prefer a tidy garden, and I like to know what’s in there. However, if I weed out the unknown or that which is uncomfortable or difficult, I might throw out something beautiful. On the other hand, even if I do mistakenly weed out something good, God can still help me grow. God can do something with anything in my life. God’s providence is in this garden somewhere; I just can’t always tell how or where until things grow a little.

I have a little vegetable garden in the back yard where I planted strawberries and beets. There’s something else growing there too, some kind of wandering plant that may have come from the compost pile. It’s a vining kind of plant with little tendrils growing in different directions. It could be a weed. It probably is. But it could be something else. It’s too soon to tell, so I guess I’ll just let it grow awhile and see.

By Sister Leslie Keener, CDP

Sister Leslie Keener, CDP is the director of God Space, a community-building spirituality ministry in Cincinnati and Northern Kentucky. She’s a Sister of Divine Providence with a Masters in Ministry and a Certificate in Spiritual Direction and Retreats from Creighton University. She directs retreats, meets with people for spiritual direction, and serves as the vocation director for her community. She also serves on the Coordinating Council of Spiritual Directors International. She enjoys music, dancing, meaningful conversations, and seeing what comes up in the garden.