The summer garden is winding down. But to my surprise, I found a late volunteer tomato plant in one of the raised beds. I started to pull it out, but since it was courageous enough to grow, I decided to leave it alone. I put a cage around just in case it took off, and over the course of a few weeks, watched it transform from a seedling to a plant several feet tall. Clusters of blooms appeared on several branches, and soon we would have a great fall harvest of cherry tomatoes.

Well, that was the plan until the other morning, when I checked on my tenacious little guy only to find the top two-thirds of the plant’s leaves gone! Not just a few leaves, nope, all of them, gone.

My little tomato had worked so hard, but overnight, everything changed.

Being the curious gardener I am, I had to find out what was going on. After some dedicated scrolling, I found the culprit—hornworms! The article stated they are hard to find and suggested going out at night with a flashlight. Apparently, they glow in the dark. And there they were! Two VERY large, fat, hornworms. They were about 4 inches long, and did I mention, they were FAT? (Well, of course, they’re fat—they just ate a tomato plant!) I quickly removed the pesky caterpillars and trimmed the plant back beyond the damage. I hope it will find the strength to recover.

It’s astonishing what potential danger can hide in plain sight.

The next morning, as I cleaned up my trimmings and checked the rest of the garden, I couldn’t help but think, where are the hornworms hiding in my life? You know what I’m talking about. Those situations that seem to threaten to derail us, hiding just beyond our consciousness, waiting for those vulnerable moments of distraction.

I have to admit, I came face-to-face with my hidden beast just the other day.

My husband and I were recovering from a bug, but felt well enough to check off some projects. He headed out to tackle the pool, and I went straight for the garden. He quickly finished up, but I was so immersed in trimming and potting that I lost track of time. My alarm sounded, reminding me to snack. Then lunch time arrived. Quite certain I could survive a little longer, I pushed through my body’s early warning signs and worked another hour. Then suddenly, I felt it—a wave of weakness warning me, “Keep pushing, and you’re going down.” Then came the overwhelming mental fog, and the emotions spilled over, making it hard to think clearly. I had pushed myself too far and faced my hornworm—just like that early morning discovery of my eaten tomato plant—I was completely unprepared.

You might feel a little sorry for me, but don’t. I know my limits. I understand what happens when I push past them. I’ve seen that hornworm, and she is me! Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate your concern, but what I really needed was a firm, loving reminder of the harm my careless choices cause. This hidden animal is always in plain sight. I chose to ignore it. And the irony is, every time it rears its ugly head, I am surprised, then disappointed, and finally frustrated. I fell for it AGAIN.

How about you? Any hornworms hiding in your life? Any hungry creatures you’re aware of but choose to ignore?

I want to encourage you—please don’t let pride, a desire to control, or the false belief that past experiences shouldn’t matter, keep you from facing the monster lurking in your heart. We all have them! And God offers a wonderful way to deal with each one.

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding. Seek his will in all you do, and he will show you which path to take.” —Proverbs 3:5-6 (NLT)

I’m learning to accept my limits, confront my ravenous monsters, and let God be God. I hope that if you ever have to face your own beast, you can do the same.

Be blessed,