I was thinking about my father’s lawn the other day. He’s in what appears to be an eternal struggle with it. Every year toward the end of the summer he rips up all the grass and puts down new seeds. Then, when the following summer comes, he’s careful to nurture the sprouting grass.

This usually works for at least several weeks. His lawn will look fantastic. Then, some weeds and crabgrass will begin to creep in. That’s about the time that he breaks out the weed killer. But at this point, it’s usually more or less over for the summer. Although a lot of the weeds will retreat, the lawn seems to be out of energy. It’s only a matter of time before very large patches seem to stop growing and sooner or later give way to pale green that eventually turns brown.

Of course, at this point it’s just a waiting game until the whole thing gets ripped up again and he resolves that “next year will be the year”.

I’m not a home owner with a big piece of green grass to take care of. Maybe if I was I’d understand a bit more easily. But regardless, you’ve got to admire his resolve to keep at it.

But it’s the fickle behavior of the lawn that had me thinking about the nature of sin and discipline. My father wants a rich green lawn. Which, if he wants, he’s going to have to put his sweat into. But the weeds take no work at all. In fact, they’re entirely uninvited. Yet, without any effort whatsoever, they come in and thrive.

Isn’t this just like life? The bad things in life come easily. Sin takes nothing to achieve. Without any attention, it will excel and increase. While on the flip side, the truly good never comes easily. Our virtues and disciplines will only come if we work for them. If we seek them.

And, like my father’s lawn the bad spoils the good. It wouldn’t be enough to have rich green grass, if all throughout there were dandelions and weeds. In the same way, we can’t just seek the good, we have to reject the bad.

Interestingly enough, like my father’s lawn, it’s going to be an uphill battle that’s not going to get easier in this life time. I suppose we just trust that it’s worth the effort.