Once again, dread filled my heart. It was Monday night. Soon enough, I would be on all fours inching my way around my yard, in the dark, balancing a flashlight, a bag, and a scoop. I would be out there again at the crack of dawn, making sure the dog hadn't left anything for the lawn guy. For the record, it always seemed like occasionally a puppy pile should be expected by those working in lawn care. Unfortunately, the person I hired to cut the grass, had zero tolerance concerning pets. So, countless hours were spent on a weekly search for hidden poo. Still, it wouldn't be good enough. Each Tuesday morning, I was greeted by a knot in my stomach and something just shy of terror.
When I first hired someone to help with the lawn, I viewed it as a gift to myself. That soon changed. In my younger days, I enjoyed yard work. Unfortunately, I wasn't built for Florida heat or prepared for just how quickly lawns and hedges could grow so close to the tropics. So, I decided to treat myself and hire it done.
"Could we keep the flowers on the lantanas and bougainvillea?" I asked sure he'd understand it wasn't really a question. He didn't.
"No, those need to be squared up," he snapped. So, for almost a year, I went without the flowers I loved. There were countless other issues. Broken sprinklers, (I had to pay to repair), decapitated flowers, ignored calls, but the biggest issue of all was my dog. If any evidence that my "best friend" existed was discovered, angry calls and angrier texts would come. Still, I paid, apologized, and tried to do better.
Eventually, my relationship with the lawn guy became a matter of prayer. I remember telling the Lord, this doesn't feel like a gift. Inexplicably, despite being paid, he never returned. As the grass continued to grow, I began to panic. "What if I can't find someone else?" "I could barely afford the mean guy who wasn't very good; why do I think I'll find someone better...kinder?" So many truly sad questions bounced around in my head.
Finally, desperately, I called the number I got from the friend of a friend. "Orlando's good," was all she said. Truer word have never been spoken. Before agreeing to take the job, the landscaper inspected my yard. He smiled, asked for my opinions , and offered to mulch and weed the flower beds. In that moment, I came dangerously close to sending him away, sure this was too good to be true and I'd never be able to afford him.
When Orlando's estimate arrived, I was stunned. I had paid far too high a price for far too long. Somehow, this gentleman would do more, come more often, charge less, and be kind. In that moment, I was reminded, "Every good and perfect gift is from above," James 1:17. Orlando is so good. Although no one is perfect, he is a perfect fit for what I need. Our interactions are brief, but I always walk away thankful and convinced the guy caring for my yard is a gift from God.
Looking back, it's embarrassing to realize I spent the better part of a year in what some might describe as an emotionally abusive relationship with the man I paid to mow my grass. All the things I tolerated, kept me from discovering the goodness God had waiting,
Psalms 31:19. What are you tolerating? Why? In the end we all must decide if we are going to accept the adversary's abuse or the good and perfect gifts from God. That's Worth Remembering.
P.S. Several weeks after discovering Orlando, I looked in my backyard, to see that first lawn guy standing there, smoking, and lopping flowers off my hedges, as if nothing had happened. Suddenly, every bit of dread was gone. Calmly, I explained he didn't need to be in my yard ever again. It's amazing how one answered prayer can change everything,
Psalms 138:3.
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