Make Hay

I am tempted to start with the song--There was an old lady who swallowed a fly...Because the song goes through all of the silly steps taken by the old lady....And that is sort of the saga of the grass at our house.  The hay, you see in the title.

We had an old mower, older-ish, and the spark plug had never been changed.  My hubby had a new spark plug, but we couldn't find the wrench thing to tighten it with.  I looked and looked. He looked and looked.  Finally on a beautiful spring day in March (and who cuts their grass in March?  This weather has been crazy!) I decided just to go to the hardware store 5 minutes from our house and get a wrench, take care of the spark plug and mow the lawn.

I watched the YouTube video on how to change the spark plug and followed the directions, but when I tried to start it, the spark plug shot out and the threads were stripped and that mower was of no use.  My hubby wasn't home for that little show.  He has a tendency to get upset about things like that and so the thought of telling him about it really made me upset.  Not to mention that the grass was just getting longer and longer.

We had talked about getting somebody to cut the grass anyway, so I called the number on a flyer that was delivered to our door.  I left a message.  There was nothing but to tell my hubby.  He was upset, but we got past it somewhat.  And the grass kept growing. It is March!

The professional mower called, and said our gates were too narrow, he couldn't do our grass. I priced mowers.  Hubby got the name of a mower repair.  We took the mower to the place. The man didn't say how long it would be to fix the mower.  And the grass kept growing.  It is March!  March!

I was praying all along about the situation. Who was the patron saint of lawn mowing? The grass has been a source of ongoing trouble since we moved to this house on the hill.  The boy across the street bought our truck last year.  As hubby and I were discussing our hay situation, we thought of the boy across the street.  We asked and he came and mowed.  He would be willing to do it on a regular basis. Problem solved.

This may not seem like a very spiritual story, but for me it is a reminder that God is good--all the time!  It is up to us to wait for His answer to our prayers and not to despair in times of trouble. (And I know that getting the grass cut is a small trouble, but a trouble.)

And I have decided that given the name of our mower young man, that the patron saint of mowers must be St. Nicholas.