I didn't have time to write anything this week. I was way too busy. The week before last while mowing my yard I hit a tree root. This resulted in Cub Cadet parts lying about. Gathering them up I had to crawl next door to the owner, my Dad, and point out my mishap's dire consequences. We took the deck to the dealer for repair the next day.

We figured a day or two without the reliable Cadet. If it took a bit longer Dad could borrow our neighbor's riding mower. I on the other hand really didn't have that option. Half my yard is the neighborhood's sled riding hill and has been for decades. The other half is just lower hills and valleys. That is why the Cub's tires are weighted and we have chains on them. If the repair dragged out too long I would end up with grass too long. That would be a problem because I'm a fussy pants about keeping my yard mowed so there is no possibility of raking grass. I don't mind mowing grass, but I abhor raking grass.

A week later the repair shop had not touched the deck. That's okay I reasoned with myself - this will be an opportunity to practice patience and trust God to work everything out in His way and time. So, that is just what this fussing fretty freddy did - until my grass started waving in the wind at me when I walked by. I broke easy. I ran for my Dad's little walking mower. We haven't used it for years. It refused to start; perhaps payback for the neglect. Next I went to a neighbor and asked to use his walking mower. "Sure, but I hate the thing and you're gonna hate it too." He shook his head. "It's set at the lowest level and it's stuck there. It bogs down all the time."

I HATE my neighbor's ugly earth scalping mower. For three days in the intense heat I dragged, pulled and wrestled that thing all over my hills. And had to restart it over and over... The wife came home from work and asked me what I did to our yard, "It's all brown and everyone else's yards are green. I explained that once "I RAKE" said yard, it will hopefully look a little better. And I raked and raked, and in great sweat laden tribulation I raked...and raked and filled up again and again a big garbage can with lots of brown grass and dumped each load on the burn pile.

After dumping yet another offering on the burn pile, I heard my dad yell something out his window. I stood there with rake and garbage can in my blistered hands, framed by my brown yard and that demonic grass killer mower sitting there content with its mean work complete - and with sweat actually running into the corners of my mouth - when I heard my Dad the second time: "The shop just called - the mower's done!"

The second thought that ran through my heat-fried brain (I can't share the first thought) was "Boy, God sure does have a sense of humor!"

I guess I have written something...and the lesson is...uh, be patient or you'll end up raking grass...and, I don't know, I'm still woozy from the heat.