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.