Lawn Mower

 The rainy weather and our busy calendars and our failing health have combined to make a very overgrown yard over the past couple of weeks. Today all the pieces fell together — or maybe I was just irked enough at the hayfield in my front yard. So I headed out to mow the jungle. 

And the mower wouldn’t crank. 

Not for me. Not for Coop. Not for Stan. Not for the carburetor cleaner. 

So. Inside I sit. The sun is turning the sky a cool melon color while I weigh my vexation against heavier matters: mourning and fearful families struggling with today’s nearby tragedy; friends fighting all manner of illness; others reeling from broken relationships, bankrupt businesses, burning buildings.  

I’m a fixer, a problem solver. But I’m out of Fix-It. Instead I’m going to spend this evening, taking name after name, trouble after trouble to the Lord’s throne. 

If you need prayer, post here or send me a private message. 

Let love reign and let hope grow in your heart — no matter how tall the grass is.

The Leg Cramp Prayer

 Rain patters on the awnings. At almost midnight, few sounds compete against its gentle tattoo— an occasional rumble of thunder and a rare car spraying puddle water from its tires. And my favorite: a mellow chime carried on the wings of a cool breeze that wafts through the open window. 

I had retired at a decent hour, lying next to Stan, chatting and laughing. But then, as he drifted off to sleep, insomnia and restless legs drove me from the bed. A shower might help. And putting away dinner dishes. And trying a new furniture polish. And reading.

But then the rain began, the baptism of the earth. 

I confess, part of me wondered if we’d ever have enough dry weather at an unbooked hour of the calendar to tame the jungle growing around the house. 

But mostly, I sat down just to let the percussive rain and the cool breeze massage away the day. The world frets about a million things, mostly the wrong things. But I can lie on my couch, wrapped in its drapery, and know beyond the shadow of a doubt that God still controls the universe, hears prayers, and works miracles; that his Son voluntarily suffered a human death to flesh despite his eternal sovereignty; that he conquered death, walked and talked and ate with friends again; that he has offered me power over death in this life by giving me keys to His eternal home: grace and his Holy Spirit, a life changing power to become more and more like Him. 

And that means one thing: loving Him better by loving people better. 

Tonight, Lord, I will sleep, but tomorrow let my kindnesses fall like rain; let my patience chime gently with reverbations of joy borne on a current of hope that has overcome this world and its troubles. Let me bless others and bless You. 

Amen.