My husband keeps an impressive garden. For me, the city girl, “garden” always meant a tomato plant or two, a couple pepper plants, and a few snow peas tucked up against the backyard fence. For my husband, it means mini farm.
Just battling the weeds is a full time job. My husband does 95% of the work. But I like to say that I contribute, so I try to get out there at least a little, my faithful gardening assistant by my side.
“I love weeding!” my four year old tells me, tearing at the quackgrass and purslane. She’ll hold up a clump with dirty hands and exclaim, “I got a root! I got a root!”
Since the thrill has worn off for me, it’s nice to have such an enthusiastic helper. The other morning, we were weeding together and she was chatting about how when she’s big and she’s a farmer, she’s going to use a machine to weed instead of her hands. (She also plans to be a doctor and a mom.) My two year old was occupied in the sandbox, and my 10 month old was hanging out in the exersaucer.
The baby had reached her limit, and I said to my helper, “Okay, we’d better go in now.”
She sighed and said, “Yeah. All things…” she furrowed her little brow. “All things…” she tried again. Finally she smiled triumphantly and pronounced, “All things must come to a good end!”
“Yes, you’re right, sweetie. All good things must come to an end.”
Later, when they were in bed for the night, I decided that I liked my daughter’s version better.
All things must come to a good end.
Yes. The constant weeding and watering eventually yield a harvest, a good end to all the hard work.
The pain of teething ends in the mouthful of teeth my baby needs.
The potty training drama will be successful in time (Clearly, my two year old’s time, not mine!), resulting in the mastery of an important skill.
Even the sleep deprivation, the bane of motherhood, does improve as the kids get older–so my friends have assured me.
For some trials, though, it will take longer than a summer or another birthday to get to the happy ending.
And, sometimes, trials in momhood and in life simply never go away. There is no happy ending.
Then God reminds me of what awaits me.
The good end is coming.
Those the LORD has rescued will return. They will enter Zion with singing; everlasting joy will crown their heads. Gladness and joy will overtake them, and sorrow and sighing will flee away. (Isaiah 35:10)
Our ultimate happy ending. No pain. No stress. No illness. No exhaustion. No frustrations or worries, big or small.
All because God rescued us, from our sins and from a sinful world. From the time that weeds first infested His perfect creation, along with all other troubles, God had a plan. He made sure a Savior would come into our broken world: His own Son, Jesus, who lived perfectly in our place and died to pay for our sins. Jesus is preparing a place for each of us. And the Holy Spirit is making sure that we make it to our good end.
Not only will things come to a good end, but they must. God must be faithful to His promises. He cannot be untrue. His Word cannot be broken.
“These words are faithful and true,” Jesus told St. John, just after giving him a vision of Heaven and describing to him what it will be like: “There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away. …I am making everything new!” (Revelation 21:5)
No matter what’s happening in momhood and in life, we whom the LORD has rescued can be at peace. The good end that’s sure to come is our beautiful new beginning.
