2022 has given excellent Fall foliage. Not only in the color of the leaves but also in their quantity. The first was a sheer delight to behold. The second came with a troublesome requirement to remove them from the yard and transport them elsewhere. The only enjoyable thing about leaf removal is when the labor is completed.
There are a few spiring eastern cedar trees close to our house, but primarily deciduous trees conceal our retreat abode from the traffic down on the road. We have black, red, and white oaks, tulip poplar, hickory, elm, ash, maple, beach, and black gum. There are also two young American holly and one lone and looming long-needle pine.
When we built our house, I insisted that only enough trees were removed to construct our home. As you now see, yard work is not one of my interests. It has never been. Yardwork was the cause of one of the most dreadful spankings I can remember. To be clear, not doing the yardwork precipitated corporal punishment. The worse part was I had to remain at the top of the stairs and listen while Louie, my old brother, and role model, got his. That anticipation was only an accelerant of my dread.
A few years back, I purchased a gas-powered leaf blower worn on the back. I got the biggest one I could afford. It is a dandy! But it is also heavy. And I am thrilled to have it.
On this year’s second blowing, I had three of our grandchildren at the house for the afternoon. Our thirteen-year-old Scarlett decided she wanted to blow leaves with the backpack. I fired up the blower at her request and strapped it to her back. She walked into the deceased leaves like a gunslinger, grinning ear to ear at her new power to disrupt the resting leaves. She also delighted in aiming the air jet at her younger sister and brother, who ran around squealing. It was all great fun; for a while.
Scarlett soon tired from it and of it, and we strapped the blower on her sister, Lucy, and she had a blow. When the fun was over, I was left with what I had started with, leaves all over the yard. The leaves were blown, not in an intentional direction but just around. It was apparent that the children blew the leaves. It was equally evident that the leaves had not been blown anywhere other than “around.” We created an excellent memory for the kids, but that was all. (And that was what I was hoping!)
I had to strap the blower on and work the leaves out into the woods. My task was not to create a memory but to elicit an appreciative word from my wife, “The yard looks nice, Fred. Thank you.” That is the pay I work hardest for and enjoy the most. My dislike, almost loathing, for blowing leaves was trumped by hearing my wife express her appreciation for an accomplished task.
Jan makes all the difference in how I approach the annual leaf removal task. The love we share between us changes everything. Still, I’m not too fond of the work of getting rid of the leaves. The job is not about getting rid of leaves. Instead, it’s transformed into an opportunity to serve the most important person in my life.
The same thing is true in my spiritual life—at least sometimes. The work of becoming transformed into the “mind of Christ” is not a grueling obligation to a Christian. Instead, as I focus on loving God, I find the work of transformation becomes an opportunity to love my Creator, Sustainer, and prime mover in life.
Jan does not make yardwork easier, but it makes it more palatable. All your efforts to be a “better person” is like Scarlett and Lucy moving leaves around in the yard. It’s fun for a while but laborious for a long time. Don’t labor to become a better Christian or person. Instead, focus your efforts in life on loving God and pleasing Him. A properly focused love is an extraordinary power to discover and enjoy life as intended to be experienced at its best.
Now these three remain: faith, hope, and love—but the greatest of these is love. (1 Corinthians 13:13)
Photo – Dogwoods on the edge of our driveway.
Baldwin Heirlooms 