“…walk in Him, rooted and built up in Him and established in the faith…” Colossians 2:6
Having just watered all my potted plants, the word rooted caught my attention in this verse. My tomato plant is not doing well. It was once a deep healthy green and full of blooms and baby tomatoes on their way to full maturity. A few delicious red ones did make it all the way to their full growth size over the past couple of months. But most had black bottoms — something about the soil needing more nutrients. I fixed that problem.
But now the few green tomatoes left on the plant are being attacked by a caterpillar. I figured this out immediately, even though on first inspection I didn’t see any damage. All I saw was caterpillar poop on the leaves. Looking closer, I found more not good stuff — a hole where the pest had chewed his way into one of the tomatoes. Gross.
I’m sad (and seriously disgusted), because I had such high hopes for this plant. I did mean to repot it in a bigger container filled with more soil so that it would have every advantage and be able to supply me with an abundance of tomatoes. I knew the roots would get too long for that pot and the plant would suffer. But I got busy and didn’t do anything about it.
And so, the plant is suffering. Caterpillar poop, dead blooms with no tiny tomatoes taking their place, dead leaves mixed with pale green leaves. Damaged tomatoes. What did I expect? Yes, I watered it faithfully and fertilized it. It had as much sun as my balcony offered. It was sprayed at the first sign of insects. Usually. When I remembered to look closely. But the soil is where the roots are. And the plant has outgrown the soil. It seems as though it is fighting hard to produce SOMEthing, but that’s all that’s going to be happening if I don’t rescue it.
That’s kind of like my life when I don’t surround myself with God’s word, when I don’t stay alert to Satan’s attacks, or when I shorten my time with Him because I’m too busy. I stop growing. I lack luster. My love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, faithfulness, goodness, gentleness, and self-control – my fruit – is full of holes. I’m attacked. I’m weak. And I feel like I’m covered in poop!
