Watch Out for the Little Foxes
"Catch the foxes for us, the little foxes that spoil the vineyards, for our vineyards are in blossom."
—Song of Solomon 2:15 (ESV)
It’s usually not the big, glaring issues that knock us off course—it’s the little things. The quiet compromises, the spiritual shortcuts, the half-hearted prayers, the unresolved frustrations. Over time, these “little foxes” sneak in and slowly erode the fruitfulness of our lives.
Recently, this truth hit home while working in two very different gardens.
At my own home, I’ve got a few raised garden beds that I’ve put a lot of time and energy into. I’ve cleared out weeds, repaired the boxes, prepped the soil, and planted vegetables. I water them regularly and check in often to see how things are growing. And in due time, those boxes produce fruit—healthy, vibrant, and life-giving.
But then, I helped take care of someone else’s yard. They had garden boxes too, but they told me they hadn’t touched them in years. When I saw them, it was clear: they were completely overrun with weeds and grass. The boards were rotting, and not a single sign of life could be found. What had once been a place of potential and growth had become a picture of neglect and decay.
And I thought—this is exactly what can happen to our spiritual lives if we’re not careful.
We all start out with hope and purpose. We’re eager to grow, to build something fruitful. But if we stop tending the garden of our heart, it doesn’t take long for the little things to take over. A skipped quiet time here. A bit of bitterness left unchecked there. A slow drift into isolation. Nothing dramatic—just subtle neglect. And then, one day, we look around and wonder, How did I get here?
That’s why Scripture warns us about the “little foxes.” These aren’t massive, obvious threats. They’re small, sneaky, and subtle. But they’re just as destructive, especially when they go unnoticed. Foxes didn’t tear down the vineyard in one night. They slowly nibbled and trampled it until nothing fruitful remained.
So, how do we protect our spiritual gardens?
1. Inspect Regularly
Take time to walk through the garden of your heart. What’s growing? What’s choking out growth? Be honest about where things are slipping and ask God to reveal anything that’s creeping in.
“Search me, O God, and know my heart! Try me and know my thoughts! And see if there be any grievous way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.” —Psalm 139:23-24
2. Tend to the Basics
Just like soil, water, and sunlight are vital to a garden, prayer, Scripture, and community are essential to spiritual growth. Neglecting these over time causes a deep drought. Stay consistent, even when it feels routine.
“Blessed is the man who walks not in the counsel of the wicked... but his delight is in the law of the Lord, and on his law he meditates day and night. He is like a tree planted by streams of water…” —Psalm 1:1–3
3. Uproot the Weeds Early
Don’t wait until things are out of control. Pull bitterness before it becomes resentment. Confess sin before it becomes a habit. Mend relationships before they fully break.
“See to it that no one fails to obtain the grace of God; that no ‘root of bitterness’ springs up and causes trouble, and by it many become defiled.” —Hebrews 12:15
4. Don’t Garden Alone
Every gardener knows the value of help. The same is true spiritually. We need brothers around us to point out what we might not see and to help us stay accountable when the work gets hard.
“And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together… but encouraging one another…” —Hebrews 10:24-25
The good news? No garden is beyond redemption. Even those neglected boxes I saw could be restored—with time, effort, and the right care. And so can our lives. God is the Master Gardener, and He specializes in bringing life out of barrenness when we invite Him in.
“I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.” —John 15:5
So, men—what condition is your garden in?
Are you cultivating it with intention? Or have you let some foxes slip in?
