Over the last year I have been writing a rather large computer program for a good friend. We're reaching the point where we are actually able to test it to see if it will do what we hoped it would. And, by golly, most of it works! But the key word here is 'most'. As we discover the 'bugs', we work to find them and correct the code - the process of 'debugging'.
While writing this code, I would often take breaks (so my head would not explode) by going out to my garden. At this time of year my walk to the world of vegetables and flowers would be mainly to pull weeds. It struck be yesterday that I may have stumbled on another pattern of life, a sign of the Creator surprising me in the most common places.
I realized that as I was pulling weeds, I did not harm the good parts of the garden. When I found a weed in one of my flower beds, I did not destroy the whole flower bed - I simply worked to pull the weed. I have an unending love for the vegetables and flowers, but not the weeds. While the weed grew in the same soil, and soaked up the same sunshine, and drank the same water, it was not part of the true garden that I wanted to preserve. At some point, the weed would have to be separated from the garden.
In thinking about my computer program, I realized that when I found a 'bug' in the code, I did not delete the entire program and start over, but I worked intensely to ferret out the errant line and remove it or change it. In effect, there was a 'weed' in my program garden.
Even the physician, when she or he encounters some malady within a patient, will work to remove the problem, not remove the whole patient. Certainly one way to end the problem is to destroy the entire person, but that would defeat the healing process, and not make much sense.
Perhaps within us, a part of the image of God, we inherently understand that there is bad with the good, and it is part of life's journey to sort out the two without harming the good. Perhaps this is the very nature of God, and when we believe in an inescapable hell, we are mistaken about what is ultimately going to happen to us; we are mistaken about the limitations of God's love and His intent to eventually bring everyone back home to Him.
Pulling weeds and cleaning up computer code is not always easy. But my love for a good end result is strong, so I do not give up on it. But it is painful to find bad code and get rid of it; it can be painful to uproot a nettle from the garden, and it can be painful to restore one's health, even at the hands of a physician.
I, for one, understand that at some point God will 'clean me up'. He will never give up on me. But the clean-up won't be easy, and it won't be without pain - pain from the realization of not always having followed His love and guidance. I have gradually grown to try to please Him out of love, not out of fear.
May God bless you on your road back to Him.
"The ultimate sin is to despair of God's mercy." - Oliviér Clément
