Well 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.
When 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.
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?