A while back, I came across a little plant in a six-inch pot. It had delicate, almost fairy-like leaves clinging gently to a stake that had been inserted into the center of the pot. I had already planted a few small shrubs of colorful Salvia that the hummingbirds and other pollinators were enjoying and a night-blooming Jasmine that was happily climbing up a wrought iron trellis and filling the evening air with its distinctive scent. I thought how pleasant a few of these little plants would look mixed in among the other plants already thriving in the beds along our back fence. The fence consists of a low cinder-block wall extending across the width of our lot. Atop the wall are eleven large tempered glass panels mounted and framed that allow us to enjoy a spectacular view of the nearby mountains. I eagerly purchased three or four of these little plants, brought them home and planted them in various places in our back yard. Little did I know that I had been charmed by a sinister monster named Creeping Fig! As the delicate stems began their pernicious creep along the ground, they sent down roots that sprouted more stems and leaves, creeping along and engulfing whatever they encountered: walls, decorative ornaments, small statuary, glass panels, iron trellises, and various planters. When they encountered another plant, the tendrils of the vine wrapped themselves around the base of the hapless plant and slowly choked the life out of it.
After a year or so, what was underneath all that pretty foliage was an out-of-control network of woody stems and roots. In just a short time, what began as a delicate stem had turned into a 2-inch diameter trunk and even thicker roots. Creeping Fig has been known to bring down entire fences and topple brick walls. If you have glass-paneled fencing like I do, letting the vine run amok can literally lift the heavy tempered glass panels right up out of their frames! Had I bothered to consult a gardener, my Sunset Western Garden Book, or even the internet before planting these little fiends, I would have steered a wide path around them and left them at the nursery.
To remove this tangled web of life-choking vine required weeks of back-breaking hard labor, plus the sacrifice of nearly every plant and shrub that it shared the bed with. Wherever the vine had attached itself to the cinder-block wall, I had to use a wide-bladed putty knife to scrape it off before it could be pulled away, and the resulting stain, I fear, is permanent.
As I wrestled with the unwieldy vine, it occurred to me that Creeping Fig is not unlike what the writer of Hebrews calls “the sin that so easily besets us” (Heb. 12:1). Sin, in its many forms, beguiles us with an attraction that is hard to resist. On the surface, it appears beautiful and harmless, but underneath hides a network of deceit. Its roots grow deep, rapidly expanding as they gain strength to pull us under and engulf us. And it leaves a nasty stain on your heart and life. I neglected to seek sound advice from experts who knew more about Creeping Fig than I did. When it comes to sin, neglecting God’s Word produces similar results.
God’s Word is given to us to read, study, and ponder over (2 Timothy 2:15). It comforts us when we sorrow (John 16:33; Matthew 28:20), and lifts us up when the way seems hard (Isaiah 43:2). It teaches and instructs us, convicts us, corrects us, and draws us to repentance (2 Timothy 3:16-17). It is our shield and our sword – weapons both of defense and offense — against the wily schemes of the devil (Ephesians 6:11). The next time you open God’s Word, take a deep breath and pray a short prayer: “Heavenly Father, show me what you have for me today.” He will answer you and reveal Himself to you in ways you never imagined.
©Eva M. Allen 2024