July 27, 2018
It’s been quiet down on the farm today. After our writer’s group at the library, a choice lay before me: paint the house or mow the lawn. Since the lawn was getting deep and rain is forecast for the next couple days, the paint job will have to wait for another day. Mowing is pretty ordinary stuff; back and forth over the same ground, again and again, making progress a row at a time. It’s not glamorous, and at the end of the day, though I can survey the finished product with satisfaction, I know that next week, it’s going to need it all over again. It’s a lot Ike preaching—back and forth over the same ground, tiny steps of progress till it all needs to be done again the following week. Contrary to what people see on TV, preaching is rarely glamorous, with only occasional breakthroughs. Isaiah stated it well: “precept upon precept, line upon line; here a little, there a little” (28:10 & 13).
Thankfulness isn’t measured only in great strides, miracles, and extraordinary events. If we had to wait for them, even the most grace-filled and spiritually perceptive would find themselves in gratitude deserts. A slower day spent in pretty mindless activity isn’t a bad thing. There are plenty of people who live in chaos, terror, or pain, wishing for the blessing of a nondescript day. I had one, with the added blessing of my wife coming home from a six-hour trip without incident. She slumbers beside me as I write; my bed and my heart are full.
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