When the Garden Goes Wild: A story about weeds, leadership, and the work no one sees.

Last summer, we bought a fixer-upper. As is the case with most home projects, it’s taken more work, more time, and more money than originally anticipated. A few weeks ago, we turned our attention to the backyard—a wild, overgrown jungle of ivy and invasive trees.

It was clear the previous owners had completely neglected it. Most of the trees were invasive, and thick ivy climbed over everything. It took an entire Saturday just to cut it all down. By the end, we were exhausted.

As I cleared the brush, I kept finding bricks buried in random spots. I tossed them into a growing pile. I also unearthed 4–5 metal poles, each about five feet tall, planted firmly in the ground, usually next to a tree or shrub.

What had been happening back here?

Eventually, I realized the answer: these weren’t random bricks and poles. At one point, this backyard had been intentionally landscaped. The poles once supported young trees as they grew strong. The bricks had outlined flower beds and tree circles. This chaotic, tangled yard had once been designed, cared for, and enjoyed.

So what happened?

If you’ve ever gardened, you know the truth—growth requires upkeep. You can plant, design, and mulch, but weeds will still pop up. You can trim branches, but after a few hot, rainy weeks, new shoots appear. Maintenance never stops.

It struck me how much this mirrors other parts of our lives.

We create plans for our health, our relationships, our leadership, our personal growth. We invest time and money to make them beautiful and full of potential. And for a season, we enjoy the results.

But then… life happens. We move on. Sometimes it’s boredom, distraction, complacency, or impatience. Sometimes we underestimate what it takes to sustain growth.

The truth is, maintenance is where the real growth happens. It’s the unseen work, the daily habits, the small choices no one else notices. It’s less glamorous than the initial planting, but without it, even the most beautiful vision eventually becomes overgrown.

So here’s my encouragement this month:What in your life needs tending? What weeds need pulling? Where do you need to show up again—not with a big overhaul, but with the steady, quiet work that keeps growth alive?

Because the best gardens—and the best leaders—are cultivated over time.

In Your Corner,

Gretchen Brewer