It's funny how different we all are on any given day and in any given way. I was very tired when I got up this morning. I am finding that Easter weekend is not at all a restful time for a pastor nor his family. It was amazing, though, and we LOVED celebrating Jesus' resurrection with our new church family. Back to being tired, though...
My friend and I were talking last night about how we were dreading Monday and all it held. After a weekend like this one, Monday is a harsh dose of reality. I decided since hiding in bed didn't seem like an option, my next best option for escape was cutting the grass. Now I know some of you just raised your eyebrows in amazement that I used "escape" and "cut grass" in the same sentence, but cutting grass is very therapeutic for me. I think it has to do with the fact that I am left with just my thoughts and the dull roar of the lawnmower motor which also, in its own glorious way, drowns out the voices of my children. I mean, I love my children deeply, but they were as tired as I was and it was just not a good combination.
So I donned my grubby clothes, put my hair in a ponytail and and then told my kids where I would be if they should happen to start bleeding profusely and need my assistance. And then my world ground to a halt and tilted slightly to the right of center when...
Jesse told me all our lawnmowers were in the shop!!!
Who sends all their lawnmowers to the shop at the same time? Apparently my husband does and I was none too happy about it. I even found myself starting to panic a little at the thought that I might be forced to abandon my lawn-mowing plan and actually listen to my kids squabble all morning as they struggled to overcome their exhaustion, too. This would require a cool head and some thinking so I took a deep breath and surveyed the driveways of my neighbours. The only one who looked promising was Fred and so I walked over and knocked on his door, hoping he would answer.
Fred did answer and he did have a push mower that I was welcome to use. He actually had 2 push mowers, but I started with the smaller and more basic of the two. I pushed it home, put gas in it and squeezed my eyes shut tight as a I breathed a quick prayer that it would start. After countless tries to no avail, the starter cord broke and I was left to wonder just how much the gas I had poured into the tank of this useless lawnmower had actually cost me!! Ugh!
I then went back over and got the granddaddy of all lawnmowers and pushed it back to my house, all the time praying my grass-cutting hopes were not about to be dashed again. I added the gas (albeit less this time than I did the first) and asked the Lord to look favourably upon me. I took a deep breath, pulled the cord a few times and was greeted by the raucous sound of working mower. What music to me ears!!! While the lawnmower did work, the self-propulsion feature did not and this was a honking huge lawnmower. Desperate times call for desperate measures, though, and I decided blocking out all sounds of life around me was worth the very significant effort it was going to take.
What would normally take me about 40 minutes with no stops took me about an hour with 3. I was hot, sweaty and quickly developing blisters, but I was alone with my thoughts and that was worth any amount of back-breaking effort needed at that point. I didn't get the yard completed, but I did get to look outside a couple of times this afternoon and see those lines I put there. I did gaze gleefully at it as I drove out the street to yet another ballgame this afternoon, too!!
So, while my sanity came at an exhausting price, the Lord allowed me to escape in just the way I needed. He let me sweat in silence, surrounded by my thoughts and the sight of my children's mouths moving while no discernible sounds could be heard.
It's now 9pm and I am in bed...ready to call it a day! I feel like after a day of cutting grass and a night of sound sleep, I'll be able to re-enter and face whatever the rest of the week holds. As I get ready to lay my head on the pillow, though, I find myself thanking Papa that He loves me enough to allow me to do just exactly what helps ME escape.