Where We Take Up Residence
ants, a planter box, and things of the Kingdom
A little over a month ago, I began planting seeds for this year’s garden. On the docket for this spring are tomatoes, cucumbers, eggplant, and rosemary. I also have a sweet pepper plant from last year, and I’m working on growing lavender and wildflowers.
The seeds have taken off, the roots are growing, and the cucumber are beginning to twist their vines around whatever they can hold onto. It was finally time for some of these seedlings to be transplanted into the planter box… or so I thought.
When I went out to begin the planting process, I noticed that a large amount of ants had taken residence in my planter box. This was mostly my own fault because I had cleared out old leaves and acorns a few weeks prior, but with the seasons changing and our oak tree dropping leaves as new buds grew, more leaves had fallen into the corners of the box—a perfect home for these little ants.
I decided to take a humane approach and placed some ant traps in the corners of the box, but when the ants held their ground, I unfortunately had to utilize other methods. This meant also having to remove the old, treated soil and add new, fresh soil back in. But even then, there were still some ants hanging around, desperate for this home they had made for themselves.
As I spent the morning digging out the old soil to make room for the new, I really felt bad for these ants. I tend to be such an empath when it comes to animals (even bugs—I literally rescued a spider out of the container I was going to be using for the soil so he wouldn’t get smushed), and I felt awful that I had to do this to make room for good things to grow.
And that’s how things often are with God too, right?
He has to rid us of the things that tear us down and hold us back so there is room for us to grow in Christlikeness. He prunes and convicts us of the places we call home where we have no business taking up residence. And sometimes, the Lord will remove us from the spaces that only exist to ruin us. This often looks like the end of a relationship, losing a job, or other life circumstances of separation or abrupt endings. We often see it as destruction, but the Lord sees it as rescue. It’s a freedom that we’re afforded that we don’t even recognize or celebrate because it doesn’t feel good, but it is necessary.
I often wonder if God is like me when it comes to the pruning and removal of bad things. Does He feel empathy toward us as we experience the separation and growing pains? Does it pain Him to remove us from something, knowing that it will hurt us? Or does the freedom it brings outweigh the initial pain?
Gosh, I am so much like the ants in this planter box. I come back to the things that are no good for me over and over again. I know what is good for me, but I often have eyes for the things that will lead me down the wrong paths. Like the ants, I return multiple times after God has taken something away, unaware that I’m walking right into the enemy’s traps. Clinging onto what I think will bring me happiness and success, I fall for them over and over. I take up residence in places that are at ends with the kingdom of God.
We are so limited in our human understanding of what is good for us. But God doesn’t hold it over us with a scolding “I told you so.” Instead, it’s a gentle correction, a clear no, or an unexpected detour. He continues to orchestrate, piecing together the parts of our stories where we will experience the most growth. Like a toddler stumbling toward the danger zone, we’re picked up and carried onto the right paths—if only we choose to stay on it and make it our home.
As I dug out the old soil, I held gratitude for the ways that the Lord intentionally rescues me from the places that could destroy me. My human nature is bent toward the places that give immediate satisfaction and happiness, but I’m grateful that the Kingdom is one of everlasting joy.
God is so, so good. It’s only through Him that we can become better. He guides and redirects us so that we stay on paths that lead to fruitfulness. He leads us home.
The new soil has now been laid in my planter box, along with my pepper plant and cucumbers. The others will soon follow when they’re ready. But let’s hope that the ants, like us, realize what’s best for them—only taking up residence in places that will lead them toward goodness.
I am like you, I have a soft spot when it comes to animals.