I don’t know what they’re officially called. In truth, they should be The Pernicious Plant, Latin name Gardeneus Destructis. The previous owners of our house introduced them in a woolly-headed attempt to create ground cover. The perennials are, in fact, very good at covering ground. But they choose how much ground. Good luck telling them otherwise.

The roots are the problem. Dig them all up except one half-inch subterranean fragment, and next year, they’ll be back in spades. Mocking your spades.

It’s easy to see a parallel to the stubbornness of sin. It’s very hard to dig out our self-centeredness and willful disregard for God’s rule.

But this concept of a resurgent root can work for our good as well. As I plunge my shovel into the dense earth again, I mull over what I read earlier in Liturgy of the Ordinary, by Tish Harrison Warren. She writes: “God is forming us into a new people. And the place of that formation is in the small moments of today.”

To build strong roots, we must consider our daily practices. Spending time tuned into God, listening to him speak through his word and Spirit. Realigning our hearts to his purposes. And living out those purposes through a myriad of little actions.

On the other side of my porch, another plant is spreading. Oregano is a part of the mint family – the herb equivalent of reproducing rabbits. It’s hard to get rid of once it’s introduced. But I’m delighted to see each new tendril because of its usefulness. The more, the tastier.

That’s how I want my faith to be: tenacious and savory. Persistent and plentiful.

Roots with a purpose: to fill the world around me with blessing.

Help us, Lord, to be smart about the roots we lay in our lives through our daily decisions. We want to affect this world, spreading the good news of your love and your coming Kingdom. Make our individual efforts a part of your garden’s abundance.