Overgrowth
I wrote this as a devotional for others to read, but truthfully, it feels more like a letter to myself - a reminder I desperately need. A quiet nudge to stay aware and to let God tend to the overgrowth in me before it takes over.
I noticed on my morning walk how many weeds were growing in between the road and the sidewalk curb. It amazed me how they were able to push their way through such tight spaces - not just surviving but thriving. Instead of the road looking clean, cut, and orderly, it was littered with green tendrils pushing through cracks that were never meant to grow anything. And it made me pause.
Those weeds didn’t belong there.
The concrete and pavement had been carefully poured, leveled, and set to make a clear, sturdy path. And yet, over time - through weathering, neglect, and the slow settling of the ground - tiny cracks appeared. And those cracks became open doors.
As I kept walking, it hit me how true that is in our own lives.
We can appear "clean cut" on the outside. We can know the Lord, walk in His ways, and even be doing all the “right” things. But if we’re not intentional about maintenance - about examining our hearts, pulling up what doesn’t belong, and surrendering those hidden places to God - those small cracks become footholds for things that were never meant to grow.
Sin rarely starts with something obvious. Most of the time, it starts small - almost invisible. A stray thought we let linger. A compromise we justify. A habit we tell ourselves isn’t that big of a deal. But over time, those things root themselves in the cracks of our character. And if we don’t deal with them early, they grow.
Weeds of bitterness.
Weeds of pride.
Weeds of fear, self-reliance, or apathy.
They don’t need much space. Just the space we give them when we aren’t actively guarding our hearts.
Proverbs 4:23 says:
“Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it.”
This isn’t just good advice - it’s a daily necessity.
Guarding our hearts means being aware of what we allow in. What we tolerate. What we excuse. It means being vigilant about what’s sprouting in us, even if it starts small.
Think of it like this: no one ever wakes up and says, “I think I’ll grow distant from God today!” It happens gradually.
We get busy.
We skip time in the Word.
We let our prayer life get quiet.
We respond in our flesh instead of the Spirit.
And before we know it, our spiritual lives feel overgrown with weeds we never meant to plant.
Jesus spoke of this kind of growth in the parable of the sower in Matthew 13. He described a farmer scattering seed and how some of that seed fell among thorns:
“Other seed fell among thorns, which grew up and choked the plants.”
Matthew 13:7
Later, Jesus explained this meant the Word falling into a heart distracted by "the worries of this life and the deceitfulness of wealth" - things that choke out the fruitfulness of the Spirit. The seed had potential. It even began to grow. But because no one cleared the ground or removed the thorns, it couldn’t thrive.
It’s not enough to simply receive the Word.
We need to tend our hearts.
We need to make space for what God wants to grow - and remove what He doesn’t.
And here's the thing: God will help us do it. We’re not meant to pull weeds alone.
In John 15:2, Jesus says:
“He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful.”
Pruning is a sign of love, not rejection. It’s God saying, “I want more for you. I want better. Let’s remove what’s getting in the way.”
But it takes our cooperation. He won’t force His way into the corners of our lives that we want to keep hidden. He waits for our surrender. For us to say, “Search me, God. Show me what needs to go.”
David prayed that very thing in Psalm 139:23–24…it’s one of my very favorites because of its deep vulnerability.
“Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.”
It’s a bold prayer - one that invites God to do deep heart work. But it’s the kind of prayer that clears the cracks. That keeps weeds from growing where they shouldn’t.
Because here’s the truth: we become what we nurture.
If we nurture envy, it grows.
If we nurture distraction, it grows.
But if we nurture the Spirit - if we spend time in the Word, seek God’s presence daily, repent quickly, and obey even in the small things - we will grow what is good. We will bear fruit that lasts.
Galatians 5:22–23 reminds us of what that fruit looks like:
“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.”
What if we made it our goal to cultivate that?
What if our daily walk became less about performance and more about tending our hearts like gardens - pulling what doesn’t belong, inviting God in to prune, and making space for growth?
It’s not glamorous. Tending a garden rarely is. (especially in this summer heat…)
But it’s the kind of slow, faithful work that produces beauty over time.
So today, let the weeds by the curb be your reminder.
Look at your heart the way you would a garden or a path.
Ask God to show you the cracks, the overgrowth, the things trying to take root that don’t belong.
And then invite Him to help you pull them up.
Not with shame. Not with hate.
But with grace.
Because His heart isn’t to condemn you - it’s to free you.
To make your path clear.
To help you grow deep and wide in the things of His Spirit.
