I had an dream: a garden at the base of the swimming pool. Unfortunately, that area was lawn. If I wanted a garden, the grass has to go.
It was the early days of Barry’s illness (ALS). He suggested we pay our lawn service to dig my new garden. But it would be at least 3 weeks before they could get to it.
In three weeks it would be June. In three weeks the plants would be picked over. I didn’t want to wait. I would try to do it myself.
I did it. It was hard: the grass didn’t want to go. But finally I had a smooth patch of black dirt with edging around it. I was beyond proud of myself. Filled with delight I went plant shopping the next morning.
I have a deep belief that plants will die immediately if I don’t get them in the ground. But once planted, they were God’s responsibility. So as soon as I got home I dug in.
The Fairy rose bush would be first to anchor the bed. Shortly into digging my spade hit something hard. I moved a few inches – and hit it again. I had come upon a deeply buried cinder block – a remnant of an old retaining wall – right where the rose was to go.
Change my plan? No way! I spent the morning digging that cinder block out. Determination and adrenalin are marvelous things. I dug, pulled, and wiggled it until it reluctantly came loose.
Then I discovered another problem: the block was just on the edge of too deep and too heavy for me to lift. I sat back on my heels to consider. Barry was already beyond helping with this. The landscapers were too busy. Everyone else was at work and the plants were waiting. If it was to be, it was up to me. So with a deep breath and a prayer, I lifted.
It came out. I relocated it to the end of the patio to serve as a step into the yard and a memorial. The time was coming when I would need to remember that I was “the woman who moved the cinderblock,” affirming the truth that with God I could do anything!
And I find that the strength
of Christ’s explosive power
infuses me to conquer
every difficulty.
Philippians 4:13 The Passion Translation