Devil
Grass
By
May Rose Starr
"I am my beloved's, and my beloved is mine: He feedeth among the lilies." Song of Solomon 6:3.
"Keep yourselves in the love of God... hating even the garment spotted by the flesh." Jude 21-23.
"Oh! What a mess!” The words escaped me involuntarily. I had planted that lily bed so carefully, every
little bulb set just so; every annoying weed eradicated; the good earth and loam mixed just right, and now, what a mess! You
see I had planted it close to my neighbor's fence in our big back yard, and I meant to watch it closely and keep it in fine
condition, so the beautiful lilies would bloom profusely and cast their fragrance far and wide that all might enjoy them.
But, I did not take into consideration that devil-grass on the other side of the fence in my neighbor's yard. It never occurred
to me that those devilish little tedrils would creep over into my lily bed and snarl themselves about their render roots,
winding their death grip about their tender stems, absorbing the life giving nurture of the good earth while my precious lilies
drooped and struggled for sustenance.
But
here they were. I chided myself as I gazed in dismay and chagrin upon the damage. I had known her yard was full of that devil-grass.
Why did I not think to take greater precautions? How could I have been so careless? I knew how devil-grass crept about, fastening
its little roots every few inches, lying close to the earth and hiding the good green grass or lovely bush and flower, sapping
their strength and bringing a deadly influence to bear upon their health and beauty before you were aware.
To
be sure I had been so terribly busy! I had meant to look after that lily bed and protect it from just this sort of danger.
Now what a lot of work lay before me. It was to do all over again. I could scarcely blame my neighbor; I could only blame
myself. It was my place to take precautions, for mine was the lily bed, not her's, and it was to my garden the Loved One would
come to feed among the lilies.
So
with regretful heart and tear filled eyes I started in upon the task, making excuses to myself - “Well, I had so much
to do; meetings here and there, entertaining friends, going about my daily round of duties and looking after other parts of
the garden, etc., etc.;” till a still small voice began to speak: “Do you remember when you were filled with the
Spirit how sensitive you were about devil-grass? Then you would have taken into account the possibilities concerning it. You
grew quite fond of the neighbor next door. Did you not? Even though she would not accept your Lord as her Savior from sin,
you had to admit that she belonged to that classification described in the Word of God as those 'who halk not after the Spirit,
but after the flesh.' You recognized that 'spirit that now worketh in the children of disobedience:' which so often prompted
her words and actions. Did you not? You were happy and glad to acknowledge the fact that you belonged to the children of the
day, not of the night or darkness – that to you it was said, 'Let us not sleep, as do others; but let us watch and be
sober.' 'Come out from among them, and be ye separate,' and,... 'Be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by
the renewing of your mind.' Do you remember how you rejoiced in His Spirit which worked in you mightily when He came to abide
in the temple which is your body? You spent pleasant hours with the neighbor you liked – you did so wish to be neighborly
– but, too close to the neighbor's back fence, you planted your precious lily bed.
Do
you recall how incensed she became when your little sister in Christ had that domestic difficulty in her home? She told you
so many things about the little wife (and said, 'It that is Christianity, I do not want it') that you shunned the little sister
who had counted upon your friendship in her hour of trouble. Your neighbor had said, 'If I were you I would not get mixed
up in it.' When you discovered the unsaved husband had broken the heart of a little suffering saint with his sly philanderings,
you felt conscience-stricken but even then you had not the courage to go and confess and stand by. You felt she would think
you came just because you had found out the truth of the matter, so you gave way to plausible excuses.
Then
there was the case of the preacher whom you considered a godly man and whose sermons you often enjoyed when you were not engaged
at your own church. You changed your mind about him after she told you all she had heard about him and you repeated it to
someone else, you know. When he became ill and was compelled to give up his pastorate you found that an evil had troubled
his peace of mind, caused loss of sleep and appetite until his frail body could not stand up under the strain of his work
and he could no longer carry on. You felt a few twinges of conscience but pushed them aside and decided no blame could be
cast upon your shoulders.
Those
little luncheons your neighbor often gave for her friends who were so jolly, and in which she so graciously included you,
were most enjoyable. Were they not? Of course they came at a time you usually had set aside for prayer or preparation for
the message you were to give at the mission. But you thought, 'Oh well, I can pray another time, and as for the message, I
can give them the one I gave the Bible class last week, and she does serve such tasty things!' There was always much laughter
and foolish jesting with no opportunity to say a word for the Master, but you could not be rude and tactless, of course. Last
week, when she raved about the bargains down at Smith's, you only had your missionary money in the house, but you went with
her and salved your conscience with, 'It was such an exceptional sale and I will save that money some other time for the missionaries.'
You
did feel ashamed about the case of Mrs. Jones. Of course she played you a shabby trick, that is true. You meant to bear it
with grace, but when your neighbor kept reminding you how terrible Mrs. Jones had acted, you got to the place where you could
scarcely bear the sight of her. So you did not ask her to accompany you to prayer meeting as you had formerly done. You had
never really considered Mrs. Jones a deeply spiritual woman anyway, and had you not taken her with you to prayer meeting she
probably would have never gone. As a matter of fact she had not been there since you stopped taking her and you thought, 'It
is probably just as well, she never was such a source of blessing to others when she came.' A couple of ladies began to notice
a coolness between you and Mrs. Jones but you had sufficient grace to say, 'I would rather not discuss it,' when they asked
the reason, yet you knew they would discuss it among themselves.
Oh!
that devil-grass, how it does spread! Those dear little lilies of love, peace, long-suffering, meekness, charity, kindness,
sacrificial giving, heart-moving testimony, gracious understanding, and discerning comprehension of others' need, how you
had longed for them to bloom in your life and refresh everyone with their sweetness; but the devil-grass from over the back
yard fence had made wreckage of your lily bed. Dig, dear little gardener, dig! Work frantically! The Prince may come even
today to gather lilies. What if there are no blooms, no fragrance, only the rank odor of envy, spite, malice, criticism, jealousy,
grudging, lukewarm service, man-pleasing effort, desultory giving, dilatory forgiving, to offend His nostrils?
Do
you remember the little poem you learned at mother's knee when a child? 'Your neighbor's name and your friend's fair fame
and what befell it. You may have heard in deed and word, but pray don't tell it.' You did not recall that, when you repeated
your neighbor's story about the preacher, did you? Nor did you think of your favorite text, 'A friend loveth at all times,'
when your little sister in Christ had her trouble...”
But
I could bear no more! Though I knew there was more that I deserved.
I
had been digging furiously at the roots of that old devil-grass, for I knew if the roots were not dug out they would grow
again, so down my hoe had gone until the last root was cast aside and I breathed more easily as I said, “Thank God,
they are out.” With perspiration dripping from my face and tears flowing down from my eyes, I started for the house.
Dropping on my knees I cried, “Father, I want to pray just as hard as I dug. Take out the old roots of selfishness,
carelessness and spiritual pride. Dig deep, Lord, root them out so that when Jesus comes to walk in His garden I may not be
ashamed before Him who is the sacred Lily of the Valley. I would be separated unto Thee and from the world. The social rag-tags
of the flesh are not for thy saints. Thou hast prepared a pure white garment, spotless, without wrinkles or blemish for us.
Dig deep, blessed Master, get every straggling root of devil-grass out of my heart, and by Thy grace I will watch and pray
that I enter not into temptation, but will redeem the time until Thou dost come to “feed among the lilies.”
At
last I arose from my knees and gratefully said, “Thank God, they are out!”
The
lily bed still stands by the neighbor's fence, for I want her to catch their fragrance, too; but there is a sturdy barrier
now so the devil-grass cannot creep through. I take more time to go often to watch over my lily bed – not only in the
back yard of my home, but in the back yard of my soul.
Busy?
Yes, but when we are busy in the right way there is, very mysteriously, time for everything.
"Come out from among them and be ye separate, saith the Lord."
"Take time to be holy, speak oft with thy Lord."
