Springtime On My Mind

Spring has sprung. Boing.

The grass is green and growing again. Little purple flowers dot my lawn. My crepe myrtle is growing tender, fresh, green leaves, preparing to bloom. Everywhere around me, plants blossom, and technicolor brightness suffuses the world like the transition from black and white to brilliant color at the beginning of the movie The Phantom of the Opera. I can finally start sitting outside again without shivering or wearing four layers of clothing.

Over the weekend I helped my neighbor with a little yard work, then started cutting away at some of the vines that are trying to grow over my fence. I need to mow the lawn soon, too.

Life is beautiful.

But life also needs to be maintained. Stewarded. Cared for.

I didn’t think much about this until I became a homeowner and a dog dad. Then I began to realize just how much responsibility I had for what I owned. I didn’t really like that idea at first. I wanted to sit back and not worry about it.

But sometimes you can’t learn to take responsibility for something other than yourself until that thing is given to you, or until you choose it despite not knowing the long-term results.

My first year of homeownership, I learned how to keep the counter and sink clear. Do the dishes, clean up after my cooking, et cetera, and do so in a timely manner. My roommate helped me learn that because if there’s one thing he doesn’t like, it’s a messy kitchen. So I learned to put the dishes in the dishwasher instead of leaving them in the sink overnight (for the most part).

Two surprising things happened: I realized it only took about five minutes to clean up after myself, and I slowly began to appreciate the feeling of having a clean kitchen.

A year and four months into homeownership, I got a puppy, my first pet that was fully mine. The first several months were tough. I felt stretched, cautious, protective. Here was an energetic, untrained little ball of fur that depended on me for survival. If I fail to take care of him and train him, he will suffer.

I’ve never cared much for mowing lawns. It can be tough, hot, sweaty work. But then I got a yard of my own and a self-propelled mower, and I started to appreciate how good the lawn looked when it was cut short.

These are all examples of how the Lord has been teaching me to be a proper steward of His creation. He blessed me with a house; He expects me to maintain it. He blessed me with a dog; He expects me to take care of him. He blessed me with a life of freedom and victory over sin and death; He expects me to honor Him by living according to His Way.

I’ve been thinking a lot recently about ways in which the Lord shows up and makes His presence known. One has been through using my gift for writing and communication. Another has been doing my best work at my job. Another has been through ministering to hurting people at my church’s recovery ministry.

And now I start to see that I can experience the presence of God by properly taking care of the resources and possessions He has blessed me with. Anytime I neglect these duties or give in to the temptation of complacency, something feels…off. Like I’m living for myself and inviting fear and doubt into my life.

If you want to experience the presence of God, take care of what He has given you as He has instructed, and dedicate your daily work to Him. We experience His goodness and grace the most when we “work the soil” around us dutifully and with humble hearts filled with His love.