so fresh and so green
It was a glorious day, and my husband and I were out in the yard raking leaves. My life is glamorous, yes? Also, I do not enjoy raking leaves, if anyone is keeping track. But as I was scrape, scrape, scraping the dried and dead leaves into larger piles, I couldn't help but think of a picture of grace. Of a fresh start. Our yard was brown and seemed utterly lifeless for months, but the harder we worked, the more green life shone through.
Once we got to this point, with the leaves piled high (and no doubt with creepy crawly things hiding inside), we stopped for the day. I could have, would have, quit forever, but my Yard Man said we had to come back tomorrow to clear the piles. I dramatically moan and say something about tomorrow being Sunday, forgoodnesssake. Can't we just leave the piles for a little while? But he says, if we leave the piles, the healthy grass beneath them will die. It will suffocate in the deadness covering it.
I tend to leave things almost fixed. Almost done. And not just in the yard. I can rake my junk - my hurt, my disappointment, my lack of integrity, my bitterness - into neat piles, but I tend to stop there. I tend to let them sit and rot.
I was nearly done grouching around when I started to see the green. I only looked up because a tiny tree branch grazed my head and I was certain it was a tarantula or butterfly coming to kill me. It was not. But when I looked up, this is what I saw.