On Hearts Filled with Kudzu
Alternative Title: On Why I'm Convinced We Need a Goat
I didn’t write this past weekend because I spent the entire time “building a fence” with my husband.
Wanting our marriage to last, I was doing my very best to work on anything other than the fence. So my Saturday began with an orange bucket, blue gloves, and an aching back as I meticulously searched the grass for shards. From broken bottles scattered to busted out windows, our yard is like a battlefield covered in sharp, glass mines. That seemed like a more logical project to throw myself into. Meanwhile, my badass husband was busy measuring and digging twenty four, three foot deep holes. I obviously took the easier job….
Until he called my name and summoned me to the back of the house. I guess I haven’t really spent a lot of time back there, what with the abandoned mattress, mounds of mini bottles, and old decaying fence posts. So I was thoroughly surprised when I realized that the entire yard, mattress, and trees were covered in kudzu.
Let me explain two things if you’re not from the Southeast:
This is the only time you are lucky to be from anywhere but the South.
Picture Satan on a really bad day and you’ve got kudzu.
This was taken about 3 hours after I started chopping!
Kudzu is a covering vine that’s not native to the United States, but was brought here to help deal with ground cover and erosion. And the beast never looked back. This vine grows faster than credit card debt and may be scarier. It’s vicious and awful.
To make things even worse, kudzu naturally grows towards areas of shade. Which seems counterintuitive until you realize that kudzu targets darkness in attempt to outgrow whatever it is that is blocking the sunlight and steal the sunlight for itself.
According to the Internet the best ways to get rid of kudzu are to light it all on fire or buy a goat.
A FIRE OR A FREAKING GOAT are your best chances to rid yourself of this monster of a plant, and even then, nothing is certain. Being in the great city of Atlanta, you can understand why those solutions are not viable options for us. Although I’d be lying if I said I didn’t look into the goat thing.
My only real option was to start pulling up these vines that were at length 20-30 feet long. Then I started scraping the vines off trees they so willingly slaughtered in their desperate attempt to bring all hell and chaos to our backyard.
As I worked, my mind wander back to earlier in the week when I confided a heavy, lifetime burden of shame to a dear friend. Words and tears exposed my secret as I shared how this shame twisted itself around my heart, wrapping it’s dangerous claws into my self worth and identity, and suffocated areas of my life.
While I pulled and pulled, I realized this kudzu was killing my yard like sin’s shame was killing my soul and stealing my joy. In the same way I was looking for an easy solution to get rid of all of the kudzu, I wanted a similar way to uproot the shame from my life.
But soul freedom and a renewed identity are not achieved as easy as lighting a fire or purchasing a goat named Gertrude. (Yes, I already named the goat.)
Like the offshoots of the kudzu exploit the sunlight, the offshoots of sin (shame and loneliness) gravitate to the Light onto which we hold in an attempt to overcome our growth and strength, and to make us stand in darkness. The lies, sins, memories, hurt, and shame are all interconnected in my story. To be honest, I was afraid of what abandoned mattress or memory I would uncover if I ever tried to deal with it. I accepted the darkness and overgrowth because I felt unworthy of the light.
With each rip of the kudzu, my soul felt a little more tired, frustrated, and exposed. So, I got mad. I got mad at the vine in my hands and the hurt in my heart. I was furious that the shame was there in the first place. I never asked for it. I did not deserve it, but there it was nonetheless. And it was my responsibility to rip it out, piece by piece, no matter how exhausting and frustrating the work.
I spent 2 days tackling this vegetation monster and my fitness tracker said it was the hardest I worked out all week. Heck yeah it was! I was on a mission.
As I uprooted each vine, I started praying through the guilt in my heart. I prayed against my own actions that allow shame to grow. I prayed for those who have added to my shame by careless words or intentional hurt. I prayed Truth into the face of lies I believe. I prayed for God’s Light to shine in my heart and to breath Words into my soul. I prayed for a healing that can only come through Christ alone. I prayed and prayed as I pulled and pulled.
My whole body hurt from this work, but at the end of the day, rays of sunlight were claiming parts of my yard once again.
There is something freeing about acknowledging the overgrowth and addressing your issue to others. When I pulled back just one root of my heart and shared this burden with my friend, a bit of light peeked through the mess. The light found through confession brought back a small desire for freedom and growth. So I pulled up another root and asked another friend to hold me accountable on fighting against my shame. The glimmer of light got stronger.
Their acceptance of and grace for me was a reminder that in Christ I am not alone. No matter the amount of overgrowth in my life, the blessings of hope, love, and grace have already been given to me through Jesus’ death on the cross.
His death obliterated the chains of shame and poured freedom over us.
Of course there is more healing to be done, but walking in this light of confession and acknowledging the burdens I have been carrying was a really good place to start. Christ is with us when we pull up our kudzu and He is with us when we realize that underneath all that dirt and decay is rich soil, ripe for replanting, ready for life.
“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. ”
