Raking away the debris of winter offers up the opportunity to praise the Lord.
Posted in , Apr 23, 2015
I will extol the LORD at all times, His praise will always be on my lips. (Psalm 34:1, NIV)
It’s cold. Spring-time cold. The sun tries to push through a thick veil of clouds but mostly the sky is overcast and gray. There’s a slight wind that’s still whispers winter.
We’re with our Cub Scout troop. As a service project, we’re preparing the local little league diamonds for spring use. Some of us are spearing candy wrappers and chip bags with pointy-end sticks, and some of us rake the perimeters of four baseball fields where the leaves have fringed the fences.
I am a raker.
The fields are large and there’s a lot of ground to cover so there’s quite a distance between the other rakers and me. It would be easier, the job would be more pleasant and quick, if I had someone to talk with. My boys are across the field raking autumn- brown leaves of their own.
It occurs to me, as my rake moves to-and-fro, that this would be a good time to talk with the Lord.
My prayer begins with a flow of thanksgiving. Thank you, God, for this day. For the fresh air. For muscles that move and for the trees that shed the leaves.
The praise of thanksgiving keeps rhythm with my chore. Every time I draw the rake backward, I thank the Lord for another grace.
Thank you for the families who will gather here. For the parents who volunteer. For the sunshine that will warm the fields.
Soon this raking is a pleasure. Praise flows in a steady stream. There’s so much to thank the Lord for. I’m happy, overjoyed to be here–in this normally full-of-life place on a day when it’s quiet enough to think about the blessings the Lord brings.
I’m praying my way around the fence when I look over and see that my youngest boys and their friends have taken a break from raking. They’re now chasing one another. It must be a game of tag. They dash and dart, arms and legs pumping like mad.
Little-boy laughter carries over the field. Watching these boys, listening to their joy, brings a joy of my own.
I push my rake forward and pull it back again and continue to praise the Lord.
Thank you, Lord, for children.
Thank you, Lord, for laughter.
And because of goodness and grace, all around the fields, the prayer continues on.
Have you ever prayed your way through a job or a chore? Will you share?