Fresh Thoughts

(So I’m thinking I must be feeling better, the creative juices are flowing again!)

This morning I went outside to tackle a yard project. We moved into this house in June of last year. A wonderful friend helped by creating flower beds across the front of my house. We did other things to clean up and tend the sorely ignored lot, but there are projects galore that remain.

This house has a nice front yard, with several mature maples; a long narrow back yard that is pretty empty; a eastern side yard that has several more maples; and a western side yard that is grassy and has four very mature pines (Asher’s forest) and a maple. Between the back yard and the western side yard there was a quasi (very dilapidated) trellis seat with two very wild thorn bushes. At one time the thorn bushes may have been a type of wild rose, but they were so unwieldy that they just had to come down. Each time I mowed around them I would get several cuts and scrapes and several t-shirts had to be relegated to the scrap bag. Besides, it would be a much better place to plant lilacs!

Asher and I were quite ready to get outside for some fresh air. He found a bag of toys in the garage and was very content. I donned a pair of Nelson’s heavy rubber work gloves, grabbed my clippers, and the loppers. Ninety minutes later two of the three bushes were down and in a pile. Ninety minutes later, several cuts on my face, arms, and legs and I was ready to take a break.

Not one to overlook the spiritual implications of a moment, I thought I’d share my insights. First, there actually were a few of the thorns that made their way through the heavy rubber gloves. I was sure that I was going to have to scrap the pants for all the pulling at thorns I was doing (fortunately not). The worst part was the way the branches snapped up and hit me in the face and pulled on my hair. All I could think of was Jesus and his crown of thorns. My experience was nothing by comparison, but it made me want to weep for his pain.

Then I was thinking how useless these bushes were. At one time they might have been pretty with their wild roses, but now they served no purpose. As I would get a few more branches on the pile I would step up on the pile to stomp it down. It made me think of salt that has lost its saltiness and how it was worth nothing but to be thrown out and trampled underfoot. Care and attentiveness would have prevented the waste, not to mention a little pruning.

Finally, I was thinking about how good it felt to get a project done. I began to wonder how many things have I just let go, maybe not tackled because I didn’t want to go through the temporary pain, to get to the things I want. Doing the necessary work now, I was able to clear out two great spaces for things I really want. Tackling this job was not without some motivation: my birthday and Mother’s Day are coming rather quickly. I have already asked for the lilac bushes, and Mother’s Day always brings flowers and outdoor pretties. Now there’s a place for both.

We may go outside later. I’ll probably sit on the porch and read while Asher romps and digs in the dirt. And that too, will be time well spent!