DSC_1782Well if you happen to be following my progress, you might have noticed that I didn’t write on Saturday.  Did I drop the ball?  Not really.  You see, I use Lent as a season of focus.  A time to seek Jesus and write about what I’m working out in my faith.  I would really like to write more, but truthfully I don’t because I worry way too much about what other people think.  

So in regards to yesterday.  It was a beautiful spring day.  Since it was so nice, I did get out and do more work in the yard.  Pulling weeds, planting my garden and just generally getting my yard back into shape.  Yes…. I know it has nothing to do with writing, but it does have to do with my own insecurities. 

DSC_2150When I was young, I lived next door to my Texas Grandma.  She really wasn’t my grandmother, but she became a surrogate to our family.  By the time I knew her, she was a stay at home wife and my babysitter.   What I remember most was her yard.  She had the most soft grass, and a beautiful redwood tree.  I can remember being with her as she pulled weeds and tended the yard.  I believe that this is where I got my love of gardens.   Please understand though, I am not good at it.  I plant things and some grow, but many don’t.   Every year I get a little better at taking care of the plants and vegetables I put in the ground.  I am still very far from being good at this gardening stuff, but I still do it.   There is something peaceful when things grow, and even when they don’t.  

I do have a problem though.  I hate the feeling that I don’t do this very well.  What I hate even more is that people will know I’m a bad gardener!  Silly isn’t it?  Insecurities are a little silly, but they are feelings that can propel someone to do something rash, or stop a person in place.

IMG_8198 The amazing thing about yesterday was that I was so totally happy working in the yard, that I didn’t even have time to feel insecure.  

I took pleasure in the doing, and not in any reaction I would receive from any outside source.  And in that beautiful day, I felt a freedom that I don’t have all the time.  It was not only freedom from insecurity and fear, but freedom to be what I wanted to be.  Who I was made to be.  And isn’t that what we all want?