The Invisible Hand of Love

Yesterday I woke early and went out in the backyard. I picked up dog poop in the morning dew. Soft and icky, but gathered in a big pile, Then I offered it as an offering to the gods of the modern life—the trash barrel as my altar. I proceeded to cut the grass with a nifty lawnmower than was practically humming with pleasure as it did its neat little trim job on the unruly grass. The lawn was finally green having fertilized multiple times. I picked up lawn chairs and shaved behind the ears. Then hauled off all the clippings to the trash. I rearranged the patio furniture and set the table with white linens and candles, all the while the dogs were thinking we were having a party. They couldn't wait for the cupcakes so they got in a big fight with one another over some scrap which lay on the ground. It was a chewed up ball. Then I shocked the pool and set up a picnic table with colorful umbrellas. In my jamies still i went ot the front yard and watered all the desert plants which were wilting with thirst. It was now 11 AM and I was still going strong, raking and pulling up dead things and watering my feet with the hose every once in a while. Running into the bathroom I noticed my face was BRIGHT red..fruits of a busy life. Then I took a shower and made myself beautiful (or so I thought.) Wondering the whole time, how is it that I had all this energy and still wasn't tired. I said "Who has done this?" Who had taken care of the lawn for me. The chores of Friday, having cleaned the garage and emptied the sad space into an orderly picture. Where did the life to do this come from? Who is working with me to take care of this place? Things that my earthly husband had done for me...always...making sure that I lived in a miniature castle. A queen for sure. Now someone was performing magical tasks around my place and it wasn't me, yet it was.

Was my heavenly bridegroom loving me? Didn't my patio look festive and ready for a sweet time in the spirit as I walked the grounds this Sunday morning, the dogs quiet in repose? Who in the world had done all this work?

But  yet I miss the sure hand of the flesh of Jesus. His gift to me of a thousand fold. A man whose name I have taken forever...Christian.