Selling peanuts popcorn at the local college football and basketball games was a job I loved from the time I was about eight-years-old through junior high school. In fact, I loved most of my odd jobs where I picked up a little spending money throughout my childhood. But I’ve got to admit, there was one job I absolutely, profusely, resolutely hated as a kid and that was the home chore of weeding out the Bermuda grass from the flower gardens that surrounded our ranch-style Texas home. Bermuda grass is tough as all get out. It has long, gnarly roots that grab the soil like vise-grips. My brothers and I would pull and complain, yank and gripe, and dig and grumble for hours on Saturday mornings in the spring and fall. The flowers we provided for were beautiful no doubt and cutting a handful to present to my mom was definitely fulfilling, but I couldn’t get rid of those weeds fast enough. Weeds are a big enough nuisance to make beautiful flower beds a chore!
Tares -- weeds -- bad habits -- bad TV shows -- sick music -- bitter thoughts. I’m ashamed to tell you I can still remember some of the foul songs that I listened to in junior high. Those weeds are brutal and they dig in deeply. The worst part of all is that they choke out the wheat.
Wheat -- the word of God -- prayer times -- Bible memory times -- family devotional times. My own mom had me memorize some of the Sermon on the Mount when I was nine. I still remember it!
When Christ comes, the tares go into the fire and the wheat becomes a bouquet of flowers that is presented to God as a gift of appreciation for all He has done and will do to make you His own.