Inside: The picture with this post may not be worth a thousand words, but it does represent my unfiltered life right now. And I think that’s something worth sharing. ~
Last Saturday when I was working in my flowerbeds, I took a quick break for a photo. When I looked at the picture my daughter had taken, I noticed several details that say a great deal about my world right now.
If you’ve been following along for a while, you know I’ve always been in favor of sharing real life in real time. I’ve written some about the challenges I’ve faced this past year. And in the coming months, I hope to spell out a few more observations and realizations from that unexpected season.
This week, though, it seems like a good time focus on the here and now. To draw your attention to a few aspects of Molly’s photo that represent my unfiltered life, if you will. Starting with …
The Wheelbarrow Full of Mulch
Last summer as I was recovering from my bike accident, I was in no shape to be hauling heavy bags of hardwood mulch bags around my yard. So when spring rolled around this year, my flowerbeds were looking very neglected.
We could have hired a landscaping company to spread mulch everywhere, but I wanted to do the job myself. Without a deadline or a timeline or any pressure.
On Easter weekend, when my daughter Lilly and her new husband came to visit, they accompanied Randy to the local garden store twice and came home with a grand total of 50 bags of mulch. They stacked the bags up around the yard, where the piles waited for me to get to them when I got to them.
Since then, I’ve found that I prefer to do this work on weekends. I’m not as fast as I used to be, but after last Saturday, I’m down to my last eight bags.
To mulch all the garden areas completely, I may need more. I might call it good when that last bag is empty, though.
Sometimes, enough is enough.
Dirty Legs and Sweaty AirPods
Spreading mulch is dirty work. As the temperature rises, which it did earlier than usual this spring, it also gets to be rather sweaty.
I don’t mind dirt or sweat, at least not when I’m working outside. But I got new hearing aids a few months ago, and since I didn’t want to damage them with gardening-induced perspiration, I started listening to music on my AirPods instead.
In case you were wondering, I barely notice the heat or the dirt when NeedtoBreathe’s latest album, The Long Surrender, and Phil Wickhman’s most recent project, Song of the Saints, are playing in my ears.
The Pool and the Orange Flags
The swimming pool that takes up about half of our backyard was a wonderful amenity when our daughters were growing up. I’m so thankful for all the afternoons we spent in out there and the memories we made together as a family, enjoying the sun and splashing around in the water.
Last year, though, the pool remained closed, and nobody really missed it. Lilly doesn’t live here anymore, and Molly works full-time in the summer. Regardless of how much (or little) the pool gets used, we still have to pay for chemicals to maintain the water and electricity to run the pump. And since the pool is surrounded by trees, said water is usually too cold for me.
So this year, after much deliberation, Randy and I finally decided it was time to fill in the pool. He signed the contract in February, telling the contractor we wanted the work to be complete before it got too hot to grow grass.
About That …
If you look at the picture with this post carefully, you can see a bit of the pool cover on the bottom right corner. In other words, it’s now early June—past prime lawn-starting season where we live—and the pool is still there.
It’s not that the contractor isn’t moving toward getting it done. The problem is all the rain we’ve been getting both prevents work to be done and makes the fill material too muddy to use.
The utility marking workers have all been out here twice already, in keeping with Kansas law that requires the lines to be marked with spray paint and flags every 15 days until the work actually starts. Given the forecast, I fully expect to see them all again.
It’s the never-ending beginning, I tell Randy. I’m not having second thoughts about filling in the pool. But I do want to get this show on the road so we can move on to the next phase of our backyard. Which leads me to …
The Reminder on My T-Shirt
My word for 2026 is rejoice, and there’s no doubt in my mind about why that’s my word this year. During my months of recovery and especially since then, I’ve often been tempted to focus on what I’ve lost and what’s different about my “new normal.”
That said, considering what happened to me last year—and what could have been the result—I have so much for which to be grateful. So for me, rejoicing means giving thanks.
It’s not always easy, of course. At times, it takes intentional effort to turn my mind away from the struggles and to concentrate on the goodness.
When I do, though, the joy of the Lord becomes my strength and the peace that surpasses understanding calms my heart. And that makes me rejoice even more.
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If you had a photo that summed up your late spring so far, what would be in the picture? Please share in the comments.
♥ Lois
P.S. I’m linking up this week with InstaEncouragements, Let’s Have Coffee and Grace & Truth.
