I am cleaning the upstairs bathroom when Harvey starts barking and runs downstairs.
So, I follow.
There’s a mechanical hum.
An older man and his grandson are weed-eating my grass.
What to do? Do they want to be caught in this random act of kindness? Do they know I’m home? I know they cut the front grass a couple of weeks ago….what do I do? Do they expect payment? I don’t have any cash…would it be insulting to pay them?
Harvey and I step out and say thanks and that cutting the grass really isn’t necessary, even though it is so greatly appreciated.
We talk about lawn mowers for a few minutes and they forge ahead.
I take out a pitcher of ice water.
Then they weed-eat around the fence, the grill, the house…every nook and cranny.
Water seems lame after such a great labor of love.
While I am going through a doubt-filled phase with God, I am reminded that he loves me and sometimes the heart just needs to be open for love.
It’s nice to know that love is alive and active. Today it came in a kind grass-cutting crew.
