I was setting in Sunday School this past Sunday, and felt a prick on my leg as I squirmed in my seat. (I squirm often due to either “restless legs” or from the tediousness of setting in a group of old people with differing ideas of religion.) Reaching down, I plucked a grass bur from my pants leg and set it on the table in front of me, so I wouldn’t disturb the class by getting up and putting it in the trash can. I was visiting my son’s home earlier when I picked it up. My son has been renovating a home that was neglected for some time; he’s finished the inside, but is just starting on the landscaping. I had looked intently as the fine crop of grass burs in his yard. Big healthy plants with tall spikes of burs clustered on the stems. I remember telling him they looked so healthy that he needed to remove them and replace them with watermelons as the soil was that good for both types of plants.
Anyway, the man setting next to me was looking at the grass bur, wondering how I was going to use it for an illustration, perhaps for some kind of sin. Not wanting to disappoint him, I offered it to him after the class dismissed, and said I was bringing the finest of my son’s harvest into the storehouse as “first fruits.” Instead of the customary 10%, it was more like a 1/1000% because of the abundant crop. I would give it to him for seed if he wished to bring it home for a crop of his own. We had a good laugh over it.
I have thought about the grass bur. It is a hardy seed, attaching itself to anything moving, kinda like gossip does. It travels far and wide, spreading its pain to all that comes in contact. The next season’s growth is exponential and brings greater discomfort, like the damage done by false stories (or even true ones that are no one’s business).
Proverbs 26:20-22 “For lack of wood the fire goes out, and where there is no whisperer, quarreling ceases.”
I must guard myself from “sharing something so we can pray about it” or “there’s something you need to know….” I can still feel the rebuke from a woman when I was going to tell her about another exhibitor at a conference when I said, “I shouldn’t say this, but…” She replied, ” Then let’s not say it.”
So can we stop a grass bur in its tracks, from spreading to the next season? Sure, the fertilizer-like chemical is called a pre-emulgent, and it is spread in the early spring or late fall before the bur seed has a chance to germinate and grow into a plant. The spiritual pre-emulgent is sealed lips held in check by a wise mind.
Now, the grass bur can be good. Someone looked at the bur (?), noticed the little hooks at the end of the spike on the bur, and made Velcro fasteners. Maybe someone can grind them up and make a medical product out of them, who knows? If so, I will give my son a call and tell him to forget about the watermelons–he’s in the money already!