A more delicate tool.

I love to garden. Every part of it. From planning and learning to weeding and prepping beds, I love it all. And today, I spent some time in one of the raised beds in my backyard. It's been overgrown by daylillies--their roots were overtaking the soil, choking out even a knock-out rose bush that was in the corner, and I'd been eyeing the bed for a while, knowing something had to be done.

So, last week, without knowing exactly what I was going to do, I just began digging up all of those lilies. And if you've ever had to dig up a giant cluster of daylillies that have been growing that way for the better part of a decade, you know how difficult it can be to tear the clumps apart, to lever the tubers right out of the soil, shake off the dirt, and toss them aside. If you haven't had to do this, let me summarize by saying it is damned hard. Last week, I worked with a spade most of the time, leveraging my weight against the tension of the roots clinging to each other and the soil. I made it about an hour into the job and had cleared about three feet of space.

Today, after a week of rain, I set out again, dragging my spade and waste can behind me. I wasn't looking forward to this job. But on a whim, I grabbed a small hand rake from the rack in the garage, thinking it could come in handing in ridding the bed of any lingering gum balls from seasons past. Well, about five minutes in, inspiration struck, and I began to use the hand rake to help me loosen the soil around the root balls, to navigate around the stalks of the lilies in a way the blunt spade wouldn't have allowed. Though the task was still hard, I was amazed at how much easier it was with what I would have considered to be a delicate tool.

I wonder how often I do the same in my writing and preaching--start off with a tool that, while appropriate to the task, isn't quite refined enough to get at the heart of the task. Rather, I take broad stabs and find myself tugging and scraping through the soil of the work, laboring intensely all the while. What if there were a more delicate tool I might be using for this preaching task? What if rather than tearing and ripping the roots, I'm excavating instead? What then? What then?