Sin is Death
When we obtained Dragonwood it was more than just trees, it was trees and kudzu. Do you know about kudzu? It’s a vine, and apparently at its place of origin, it was a good and useful thing. I can’t imagine it being anything other than how I experience it, though, which gives the term, ‘invasive’ a bad name. Apparently in its native habitat, kudzu doesn’t strangle, doesn’t spread, and doesn’t kill. Apparently in its native habitat, kudzu is actually a good thing. I don’t know that kudzu, I know this kudzu – and unfortunately, I think I will always know this kudzu.
When we purchased Dragonwood, there was a small patch of land which had been cleared of trees for what I can only assume was to be for a house. As the project was left unattended, kudzu entered, arriving from under the road – apparently liking the sun and the open space it was now offered. It then totally filled the open locations, and spread into the surrounding trees, covering them, weighing them down, and killing them. Some of those vines that I find have a circumference as big around as small trees - over a foot.
The vines of kudzu spread horizontally along the ground, just as much as they do vertically through the trees. They crawl on top of the ground, sending down new shoots every so often, and when it finds a tree in which to go vertically, it does not hesitate. As dolphins swim in the open ocean, moving forward in a straight line, jumping up and down and having fun, kudzu is mimicking them, yet seemingly with more fun, and all the while accompanied by an evil laugh.
Because these vines grow faster than the trees, measured in feet per day, it doesn’t take long for the kudzu’s leaves to be on top of the tree’s leaves – preventing the tree from getting any sun. Furthermore, the tree’s branches eventually bow under the weight of the kudzu. That two-fold approach puts the tree to death, as the kudzu continues its steady march to take over the world.
When kudzu has leaves on the vines, if it were to be cut, it would grow even faster – because it likes being pruned. So, killing it cannot be done through brute force – there must be a strategy. The only time to safely cut the kudzu vines is after the leaves have fallen off in the winter. That requires patience, and in the meanwhile, we are picking up the vines and coiling them on top of themselves. Trying to contain the kudzu in that manner doesn’t actually work, however, because it’s always moving, always jumping under and over. It wants to be in charge of all things.
Has anybody made the kudzu-cancer analogy yet? Well, guess what’s about to happen?
Neuroendocrine Tumors, when they become well-differentiated, send out hormones that jump under and over and through. Those hormones inundate the liver, and when the liver can’t handle the cancer, it gets overwhelmed like the trees. Neuroendocrine Tumors also need a strategy other than brute force.
Has anybody made the kudzu-sin analogy yet?
When our first parents decided to be like God, they brought in the original cancer. They chose sin by believing the deceiver over the Designer. Cancer mimics the design. Genesis calls that kudzu … loosely translated.
Sin mimics God’s original design, and like kudzu, it destroys something beautiful. Cancer? Same-same. (We were made in the image of God, yet the twisting of that truth is that we will be like God.)
Sin destroys our lives, and it keeps us from God. The good life, the thriving life, is the one that God designed for us, and put boundaries around. It’s not health, wealth and prosperity – but rather it’s love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness and self-control. It’s God Himself. It’s God living in us and through us. God is life.
And God personally and directly instructed Cain in Genesis 4:7, "You will be accepted if you do what is right. But if you refuse to do what is right, then watch out! Sin is crouching at the door, eager to control you. But you must subdue it and be its master."
Kudzu is teaching me about how important it is to keep at the work of subduing sin, to stay connected to the One who gives me life and designed me. It is reminding me that sin is
death.