Awakened from a short night’s sleep by a massive branch falling from an ancient live oak, a leisurely morning making my wife breakfast quickly changed to work boots and leather gloves, a chainsaw piercing the silence of the still-sleeping world. Amidst the raucous rattle, I discovered a certain peace in my soul. All the noise that once seemed so important faded into the background of the task at hand.
As the chainsaw took its inevitable pause, I glanced at busted knuckles covered in oily sawdust. I could hear my father say, “If you were a bit more patient, that might not have happened.” Yeah, just as if he was still here on this side of Heaven.
Grabbing a piece of shade to escape the oppressive 100-degree heat, I “… heard the sound of the Lord God as he was walking in the garden in the cool of the day.” Genesis 3:8 It seemed time stood still and maybe it did. We’re the only creatures whose lives are measured in minutes, yet time does constrain the One Who created it. In that moment, we walked. We talked some. I listened more. It turns out all my worries are insignificant in the light of eternity. In focusing only on the next step, I lost sight of direction, His direction. It took a mighty branch crashing down to turn my eyes to Jesus, again.
As the eighteen-year-old in me went to take a nap, the slightly older version of myself remained to do the work. Some things never change. During one pause, my wife asked if the chainsaw was broken again. “Nope, just aching knees and shoulders,” not to mention my heart.
Let’s just say we took a few more “walks in the garden” that day. I should do it more often, for God is always there, waiting.
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