Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Weed Block Versus Round-Up: A Theological Discussion
Loving Hey Miss Awesome for posting this on her Tumblr account. And thinking about, maybe, having it embroidered on a pillow.
This morning, Spouse and I were praying together. Yeah, we actually do that. We also hold hands during the Lord's Prayer on Sunday mornings. We laugh/lament that the 9:30 am service at First Meth - I have decided to start shortening it to "Meth," because it's kinda ironic and edgy-sounding - counts as a date for us, because the kids are usually both in Sunday school, so it's just the two of us, holding hands and saying "Our Father" together. But I have heard that, among couples who pray together regularly, the divorce rate is 0.3%, which - if I'm doing my math correctly - is A DANG SIGHT LOWER than the 50% divorce rate applicable to the general population. That's not why we pray together, but it's certainly a bonus.
Among my prayer requests was that I could personally find the inner strength to eliminate hate from my heart. Okay, maybe hate is too strong a word - let's go with resentment. I have been harboring a lot of resentment against various and sundry people who, let's just say, do not treat others as they probably would prefer to be treated themselves. And let's also just say that the construction process has brought a number of these folks out of the woodwork. Hence my present baseline resentment level, which I would classify as "fairly toxic."
And resentment is a toxin, and I know that, and so I want to wave it goodbye - because it's self-destructive, and counterproductive.
So I decided that praying for peace on this subject was the equivalent of putting down weed block fabric. You know, that black plastic stuff that you put in your flower beds? I decided that every time I prayed to rid my heart of resentment, I would visualize another layer of weed block being put down, and then, when confronted with not-nice behavior, I would visualize the not-nice person attempting to plant a weed in my internal backyard, AND THE WEED WOULD NOT GET ANY PURCHASE, ON ACCOUNT OF THE WEED BLOCK.
Nice visual, right?
Except my mind only seems to be seizing on that image fifty percent of the time. The rest of the time, the quote about mental murder pops up. And then the thought occurs to me: weed block fabric is only one way to skin the proverbial cat. Admittedly, it's a healthy option, but it's also a time-consuming and labor-intensive option. WHEREAS GOING SCORCHED EARTH WITH A BOTTLE OF ROUND-UP . . . not healthy in the least. Horribly bad for the environment. But quick, and instantly gratifying.
And there you have it. In this corner: New Testament Me. Committed to putting down the weed block, and pledging to cover it with good topsoil (which, for purposes of this metaphor, I equate to eating right, exercising, getting enough sleep, and otherwise doing all of the things that I could do and should do to put myself in an optimally accepting and philosophical frame of mind). And then I should just move on to other pastures, on the strength of my conviction that the weed block will do its thing.
"LAAAAAAAME," Old Testament Me scoffs. "HERE's your visual: a big ol' bottle of Round-Up. With one of those old-school Mr. Yuk stickers on it, for full effect. [Apropos of nothing: can you still get Mr. Yuk stickers? I recall them being incredibly effective, back in the day.] Now imagine a reaaaaaaaaallly big spoon. Not a soup spoon - a serving spoon. Now imagine yourself force-feeding Yuk Juice to all of the turkeys in your life. See? Satisfying."
Well, not entirely.
But incredibly tempting. At various times, more than others.
Going home to eat with my family, get a little exercise and unwind. Gotta put some topsoil down on that weed block, so it doesn't blow away . . . .