Unearthing Tentacles

Happy Monday! It’s been a minute since my last email went out. I hope that your Easter celebrations were full of joy and maybe some cake. Here we are now in the season of Eastertide, the 50 days between Easter and Pentecost.

I’ve been thinking a lot about spring and how everything is bursting back to life. We have Bermuda grass in our yard, and we know from experience that it doesn’t begin to green up until around April. But as soon as April rolls around, we begin to see the green shoots poking through the brown grass of winter.

The first mow of the season helps to remove the dormant grass and prepare the ground for the new, green shoots emerging.

Once the grass begins to grow, it takes off, which is great for the lawn, but not so great for the flower bed. Somehow, no matter how much prep work we do, no matter what kind of ground cover we use, no matter how we treat the flower bed, the Bermuda grass finds its way and bursts forth, leaving trails of grass in the red mulch.

It is fascinating to me how the grass grows. As I rip the grass out of the flower bed, I find that when I lift one tentacle, many more tentacles come with it until I get to the actual root of that cluster of grass. If I don’t pull the root out, which is often quite deep in the ground, the grass will just continue to grow.

I can start ripping the grass out little by little, or I can do the slower work of uncovering the tentacles until I find the root and remove it fully. This is actually much easier to do after a rain, when the ground is damp and willing to surrender the root with less resistance.

It’s not that different from the deep interior work of exploring what is happening below the surface of our lives.

No matter how much prep work we do, there are tentacles that surface in our lives - ego, pride, anger, comparison, competitiveness, judgment, cynicism - and on the list goes. Your list and my list may not look the same, but we all have a list.

The grass in my flower bed feels really annoying. I don’t want it there. It’s inconvenient and a hassle to deal with most days. But if I leave that grass unattended, it will eventually take over.

I don’t always want to do the interior work in my life either. Sometimes I want to ignore what is happening within me, and at other times I want to amplify it so I can justify my resulting behavior. But just like the grass, if I don’t slow down and do the work of unearthing the tentacles within me, the roots will continue to deepen and eventually take over.

Much like the ground releases the tentacles more easily when the earth is damp, so too does my body release its tentacles when I have been with Jesus.

Jesus reminds me who I am. He invites me to slow down and sit with the uncomfortable feelings. He reminds me that I am not alone and that these things are stirred within me because of my humanity. His Spirit sits with me as I unravel my experience and rediscover my belovedness. When I can see the root of whatever tentacle has surfaced, I can do the work, with the Spirit, of unearthing it, and begin to move toward a deeper wholeness in him.

I wonder if there are any tentacles that might need your attention this week? 

Melissa