this past week i've been relegated to mowing for the vanderwoudes because one of the regular mowers is not done with school yet.
if i've talked with you about mowing before, you'll know that i hate it. if i haven't talked with you about it before, well, to sum up, i hate it! it's painfully boring and when it rains it's quite a lot like torture of the soul.
when you're mowing and sitting on a tractor by yourself for ten hours straight you have a lot of time to think. as my cousin ed puts it (paraphrased), "you have so much time to think that by mid-afternoon you've gone through everything you can think about so you have to think about the stuff you thought about in the morning again."
so, in all my pondering about life, love, and the average flight velocity of a laden swallow (african or european...you pick), a strange thing happened; a lyric from my church's psalter hymnal popped into my head. this is curious because it came from nowhere and was surprisingly relevant to the dark thoughts that tend to plague my mind while i mow. thoughts and questions about why God has seen fit to punish me in this way.
anyway...here's the lyric:
hymn 49 verse/stanza 2
my faithful saviour keeps me in his care;
without my father's will cannot a hair
fall from my head; he shall for me prepare
a heavenly habitation.
all things must serve to further my salvation.
his holy spirit brings me consolation;
he makes me willing now with veneration
in hope his yoke to bear.
indeed...all things must serve to further my salvation...