When I was a kid, we lived in a rural community that specialized in growing tobacco. My first summer job was weeding the crop, and most of the time we would walk the seemingly endless rows with a hoe, scuffing out weeds in relative comfort. But inevitably when we got close to the fence, we ran into thistles - hundreds and hundreds of little thistles. They looked harmless enough, but you couldn't scuff them out with a hoe; you had to get down on your knees and pull those prickly little things out by the roots. We often thought it would be far easier to just let them stay there. After all, they weren't very big. But the farmer knew if we left them until harvest time, when we reached down to get a handful of tobacco, we would come away with a palm full of thorns.
I have found that in life, bitterness is a lot like those little thistles. We can push away hurts and pains, but the only way to get rid of bitterness is to fall to our knees and root it out through prayer. It is hard work, but if we leave a little bitterness in our hearts, it grows until it does real damage to someone.
- Alan Beck
No comments:
Post a Comment