Mowing in the Rain
I worked inside all morning, looking out occasionally at the latest wave of rain. I would have enjoyed the sound of raindrops on the roof and windows except that someone was mowing – in the rain. At first the sound came from the church across the way; they always mow on Friday, rain or shine. And then in the late morning it was a neighbor nearby.
Hearing the groan of lawn mowers put me a little on edge because I needed to get out there and do the same. The winter weeds had gone crazy with all the recent moisture and the yard was looking shaggy, and I’m not a shaggy yard guy. And I was anxious to get out and crank up the mower and make sure it was running and ready for the long months ahead. On top of that, I could definitely use the exercise. I don’t do the gym – I just don’t.
But I also don’t mow when it’s raining or even just when the grass is wet. The wet grass comes out of the side of the mower in clumps and it gets caked under the housing and all over the blade. The mower wheels push down ruts of grass that don’t get cut and that later pop up in long lines like punk haircuts. The wheels get muddy and that creates muddy trails on the sidewalk, and whatever grass hits the pavement can’t be swept up. There’s just nothing good about mowing when it is wet.
Our spiritual lives are much the same. We all have opinions and preferences on how to go about it. Some of us are sticklers for practices and schedules and we won’t be thrown off by changes in the weather. Some of us hold back and wait for optimal conditions. Some of us are in need of “spiritual exercise” and just need to get out there and do it regardless of the results.
There’s no right or wrong way to approach the spiritual life, as long as you do approach it in some way. Lent is a good time to set aside some time to be quiet, reflect, pray, listen. You can do that sitting in a warm corner of the house, or you can even do it out in the rain.
Jeff, you are right on target with your observations. It seems as though sometimes, we have to be hurting inside before we seek help. It’s always there. All we have to do is ask.