Undergrowth
Last week, I wrote a Reach called Overgrowth, which spoke on doing intentional work on our hearts so that “weeds” do not appear in the cracks and pull us from God. This week, I decided to take that reminder both spiritually and literally. We’ve had towering weeds growing along our driveway for far too long. The kind of weeds you promise yourself you’ll get to “next weekend”...until “next weekend” becomes a month later…
So, I finally got to it. Gloves on, water bottle nearby, and determination in my bones, I started the climb. Back and forth. Up and down. (our driveway…its one, long hill) The more I pulled, the more energized I felt. It was almost therapeutic!
But then came the weed.
It was the last one I saw - this huge, thick-stemmed monster of a thing. I had saved it for the end, expecting a triumphant, satisfying finish. I even hyped myself up for it.
But when I went to pull it out? Nothing. It didn’t move. Not even a little. I adjusted my gloves, bent my knees, gritted my teeth - still nothing. I tugged, twisted, yanked with my full weight, and eventually, I got it… but just barely.
I stood there sweaty and panting, staring at the torn root in my hand. And almost immediately, I felt that still, small whisper in my spirit:
“It’s harder to destroy something that’s deeply rooted.”
One of the beautiful things about God’s teaching is how a single moment can carry layers of meaning. The lesson may land differently in your heart than it did in mine - but here’s what my Abba gently spoke to me:
That weed wasn’t just big on the surface - it had depth. And it reminded me: that’s what I want my faith to be like. Deep-rooted. Firm. Unshakeable. A weed might’ve been my visual, but if it helps, picture a mighty oak tree… or even the towering redwoods in California - standing tall not because of what’s seen, but because of what’s buried deep beneath.
Because while Overgrowth reminded me to clear the clutter, Undergrowth is reminding me to nurture the depth. Both matter. But in a world that often prioritizes appearances - even spiritual ones — we can forget that it’s what’s happening beneath the surface that determines our stability.
Deep Roots Don’t Happen by Accident
Faith doesn’t go deep by accident. Just like weeds grow easily without effort, shallowness is natural if we aren’t intentional.
Psalm 1 paints the picture so clearly:
“Blessed is the one... whose delight is in the law of the Lord, and who meditates on his law day and night. That person is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither - whatever they do prospers.” Psalm 1:1–3
A tree with deep roots doesn’t fear the heat. It doesn’t panic when the rain stops. It doesn’t topple in strong winds. Why? Because its source isn’t surface-level. It draws life from something deeper.
That’s the kind of life I want to live. But that means I have to ask myself: Am I making room for deep roots? Or am I just staying busy trimming the surface?
The Enemy Pulls at What Isn’t Anchored
When I stood at the top of the driveway trying to pull that last weed, I thought about how easily I had yanked the smaller ones. The ones that hadn’t had time to dig deep. The ones I barely noticed.
And I realized - that’s what the enemy looks for.
He doesn’t need you to completely renounce your faith to make progress. He just needs a weak spot. A place where your roots aren’t deep. A truth you haven’t fully believed. A wound you haven’t let God heal. A habit you haven’t surrendered.
Jesus warned of this in Matthew 13 again - not just the thorns, but the rocky soil:
“The seed falling on rocky ground refers to someone who hears the word and at once receives it with joy. But since they have no root, they last only a short time. When trouble or persecution comes because of the word, they quickly fall away.” Matthew 13:20–21
Faith That Endures Is Grown in the Hidden Places
You don’t see the roots of a tree, but they are what keep it standing.
In the same way, no one sees the quiet mornings when you open your Bible, even when it feels hard.
No one hears the whispered prayers in your car, in the kitchen, or under your breath when you’re overwhelmed.
No one sees the battle in your mind when you choose truth over lies. Or when you turn away from sin before it takes hold.
But God sees.
And those unseen moments? They’re the soil where deep faith grows.
Build Below the Surface
There’s something remarkable about doing the kind of spiritual work no one else applauds. It doesn’t make headlines. It won’t go viral. But it will hold you steady when life gets heavy.
It will keep you anchored when loss strikes, when doubt creeps in, when the diagnosis comes, or when the dream you hoped for doesn’t happen.
In Jeremiah 17:7–8, God says:
“But blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in him. They will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit.”
Deep faith doesn’t fear hard seasons. It endures them. Because it’s connected to something greater than circumstance - it’s connected to the Source of life.
So… What Are You Rooting Into?
The hard truth is: you will grow roots into something. The question is what.
Is it the approval of others? Your ability to “hold it all together”? Control? Success?
If it’s not Christ, it won’t last. And it won’t hold when the storms come. But if it isChrist - if your roots grow deep in Him - then even when the shaking comes (and it will), you won’t fall apart.
Keep Digging Deep
So yes, pull the weeds. Clear the overgrowth. Keep your heart tender before God. But don’t stop there.
Build the undergrowth.
Let your faith grow deep. Let the Word soak into your soul. Let your prayers water the hidden places. Let obedience become your habit - not because it’s glamorous, but because it’s necessary.
We don’t get strong roots overnight. But we do get them one small decision at a time.
So today, don’t just focus on what needs to be pulled. Ask God to show you where He wants to plant something deeper. Because someday, when the enemy comes tugging - trying to uproot your joy, your identity, your trust - he’ll grab hold and find a faith that doesn’t budge.
