I’ve lived in Florida for over twenty-one years and it still blows my mind that one of the things on my Christmas to-do list is “cut the lawn.” Granted, the days are a bit shorter, so the grass grows a little slower and I only have to cut and trim once a month or so. But for a guy who grew up in the northeast, it feels really strange to on sunblock and a hat, and do yard work in shorts and T-shirt just two days on Christmas Eve eve!
On the flip side, I enjoy the hour I spend cutting and trimming. (I like it better than bundling up to shovel snow.) Even though it is yard “work” there is something very relaxing about the sound of the mower, the smell of the freshly cut grass, the fresh air and the pattern of neatly cut rows. Today was especially nice: blue skies, just a few wispy clouds, 70 degrees with lower humidity, and just a hint of a breeze. No interruptions, no phone calls, songs going through my head, a bumper crop of pine cones to pick up and toss into the woods, and the satisfaction of a completed task.
That last benefit is rare. Oh, I complete a lot of tasks, but rarely get to see the results. The “results” ministry are matters of the heart and soul, both of which I can’t see. The rewards are often eternal rather than temporal. I don’t get to see what happens after you go home from church, or I leave after a visit, so I don’t have a concrete metric for ministry. I’m OK with that. As Paul reminds us, we plant and water, but God causes the growth. Someone else somewhere down the road may harvest what I plant today. There may not be fruit for generations, long after I’m gone. That’s all in God’s hands.
But I can cut the lawn. I can care for the little “yarden” God has given me. And I can sit back and enjoy a little sabbath when it’s all done. Amen!
They were all dead.
A couple of weeks ago, I was sitting in Starbucks, in between appointment, drinking coffee and scrolling through some Reddit stuff when — get this — this guy came in, sat down, and did nothing else other than enjoy his coffee. That’s right, no phone, no book, no tablet, no computer, no friend to talk to, nothing. He just sat there and sipped his venti whatever. I can’t say that I’ve ever seen someone do that before. There were plenty of other people there, some like me focused on a smartphone screen. A few were engrossed in their laptops. A couple of friends were talking.
I had to go to the county courthouse today, more formally known as the Kim Hammond Justice Center. My name wasn’t on the docket or anything like that. I just had to drop off an affidavit at the clerk’s office to get my name back on the list of premarital counseling providers in the area.
Fourth year of seminary education. Married. One in the oven. Time to get a job to make ends meet. Subway is taking applications. Why not?
Waite for it... 