Let them die, but save my gourd
How God used a plant to remind me of what really matters.
I had spent a few hours of my day off battling weeds in my front yard. On returning to the house in the early evening, I noticed large groups of beetles walking up and down the stems of my Gardenia bush. I approached the beetles, trying to identify them. When I realised I didn’t know what they were, I soon forgot about them.
About 2 weeks later, I had another day off and spent a few hours of it battling blackjack weeds in my flower garden. Again, as I made my way back into the house, I noticed these beetles. I asked my sister if she knew what they were. She didn’t, but we remembered that our good friend, Google Lens, might. After struggling to get a clear shot of these skittish bugs, she finally got a clear picture and we identified them as Twig wilters. I hated their name because… well… twig wilters. Anyway, our friend informed us that these Twig Wilters lived up to their name and, given enough time, would reduce my Gardenia to a distant memory. I didn’t bother learning any fun facts about these critters—I just wanted to know how to annihilate them FAST. You see, I love my Gardenia (My Precious). She smells amazing when in bloom and I had always wanted one in my yard back when I was in varsity. Now that I have one, these twig wilters want to take my joy away..? Oh no! I advised them to enjoy that night because it would be their last on this earth.
I’m all for natural insect repellents, but considering that these bugs were ALL over my Gardenia and had been living it up on her for at least a few weeks, I went straight for the pesticide. (Relax, it’s bee-friendly.) You see, this was an emergency for me. I saw this as a life-threatening situation for my beloved Gardenia and I was not going to waste another day before trying to save My Precious. My pesticide listed twig wilters as one of the bugs it would eradicate and I (internally) leapt for joy at the massacre I was planning. My sister (teasingly?) suggested I vacuum the bugs off the stems instead. I thought the idea was silly but liked that the intruders would be gone with immediate effect. I decided I’d do just that and follow up with the pesticide to serve as a repellent for future generations who may already have set their sights and/or secured their emigration visas to invade My Precious. She laughed it off. I wasn’t playing.
The following morning, however, I had an appointment. I decided to get out of bed 60 minutes earlier than I usually would for my appointment because I had a kill date to get underway. I got out of bed, still tired but ever-so-determined. I looked out the window and laughingly noticed some of my neighbours had put their rubbish out on the curb, anticipating the arrival of the Garbage Men. I had a feeling they wouldn’t arrive that day but admired my neighbours’… faith? Hope? (If you know, you know. If you don’t, read here about my experience with our municipal waste service.) I realised I wouldn’t have time enough to deal with the Twig Wilters and still be on time for my meeting, so I mixed the insecticide to use after my meeting and got ready for work. I was clearly in a very determined mood because I finished getting ready sooner than I normally would have and thought… “These bugs have got to go NOW. I don’t need them sucking any more life out of My Precious, even if only for a few more hours.” I assembled my vacuum cleaner, connected the extension cord, and stepped outside to begin my Mission. There I was, outside, in my business casual outfit (heels and all), standing outside with my bright red vacuum cleaner roaring, sucking up these offenders while trash-talking and saying my goodbyes to them. Anyone passing on the streets, or a neighbour looking over the wall, might have seen a well-dressed woman (because I was), talking madly to an invisible being, while vacuuming… a plant! I imagined how absolutely ridiculous I looked and felt a bit shy but I was so resolute in saving My Precious, I literally said aloud, “I don’t care,” and kept on sucking and continued my trash-talking, interspersed with lovingly encouraging My Precious to not quit.
It was at that moment of vocal resolution and vacuuming these bugs that I was reminded of Jonah and the Ninevites. I felt a conviction in my spirit in that moment. You see, when it comes to telling people about Jesus, there have been times when I felt too shy to share, not being certain of what I’d say first and not wanting to look foolish (I’m embarrassed to admit this, but God already knows the truth, I won’t pretend for your benefit.) Yet, there I was, not caring that I looked like a lunatic vacuuming a plant in her garden while verbally assaulting invisible offenders in, on, or around the plant. The life of My Precious meant more to me than whatever whoever saw or heard me was thinking. I honestly DID NOT CARE. It dawned on me that I was ready, willing, and indeed, putting in way more effort into saving a Gardenia than in sharing the soul-saving gospel of Jesus Christ with a friend or stranger. Much like Jonah, making much ado about a gourd than about an entire nation that was scheduled to experience God’s wrath, I was more fearless and resolute about saving an ornamental flower than I had been about sharing the life-saving gospel of Christ. Even knowing that eternity is hell without Jesus, I still put more effort into saving my plant than into evangelising.
Some might say I’m making much ado about nothing, but as a Christian, I know I’m meant to share the gospel with everyone, but I let my ego get in the way of keeping people from hell, or at least, being aware of it if they declined the offer of salvation. Furthermore, I know that Heaven has an actual party over the repentance of one sinner (Luke 15v1-7) and yet I still put more energy into saving a plant than into doing my bit in bringing God joy. What I love about the Lord is that He didn’t convict me of this just once—oh no! This message was repeated to me in the sermon on the Sunday after I played Terminator with the Twig Wilters! The Lord grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me, kicking my Gardenia-loving self into gear. Then He prompted the pastor to tell us to go where God sends us—and report back. There was no getting out of this one. Accountability was everywhere.
So, as I sit here, typing this, I remain convicted by my inaction in sharing salvation with those I claim to love—while having fought harder to save an ornamental plant.
Then the LORD said, "You had compassion on the plant for which you did not work and which you did not cause to grow, which came up overnight and perished overnight. Should I not have compassion on Nineveh, the great city in which there are more than 120,000 persons who do not know the difference between their right and left hand, as well as many animals?"
I realised that the way I was loving my friends and family and my neighbour was not real love. Real love was waking up earlier than usual, going out during the day in my business casuals, while people were about, pushing a vacuum cleaner into the garden, and trash-talking the enemy, and risking looking like a right idiot just to save an ornamental flower because of her “amazing fragrance when in bloom”. This level of effort, but for a person.
I don’t really know how to end this story. I just wanted to share what I learned and hopefully encourage us all to do better if we’ve been putting our own comfort before God’s reason to smile. Maybe it starts with something small—a conversation with a friend, an encouraging scripture to a stranger, or even just asking God to show us where He wants us to speak up (and then actually speaking up). Whatever it is, I pray we all choose to care more about people’s eternity than our own comfort.
For those curious about My Precious, she is critter-free, and for that, I’m grateful. But more than that, I’m grateful that God used a plant to remind me of what really matters. Here’s to being just as determined and having a sense of urgency about souls as we are about our gardenias.
*If you’re not sure that you need saving, or better yet, are convinced you don’t because you’re already a good person, please have a look at this article: Romans 3:23.
**Fun fact: These Twig Wilters are also known as Gardenia Twig Wilters.
God can use anything to minister to us...even pests. Thanks for sharing and also reminding us that Souls are most valuable than anything we have decided is more valuable to us.
Awesome one