This week I’ve been thinking a lot about grass. No, not that kind and, no, I have not been imbibing, inhaling or sniffing any foreign substance. Rather, my thoughts have been with each of those individual blades that comprise our green and brown lawn. Look at it this way: for a few months each year, lawns are expected to look good. They are raked, fertilized, aerated and watered and in general, primed to outgrow the neighbour’s plot of ground. If you want to be an example to the neighbourhood, remember that looking good requires a lot of effort.
While ignoring the hostile assaults of dogs, drought and hail, every blade is expected to stand up and be counted. No lying down on the job is permitted. So, growth is good and the race to become taller and stronger than the next blade is to be encouraged. Right? Well, not exactly.
Consider this: just when it seems that things are popping up all over, the owner’s voice can be heard (or maybe more correctly, it’s often the voice of the owner’s wife), “Better get out and cut that grass ... can’t believe how fast that stuff grows.”
But isn’t that what it’s supposed to do? Apparently not – just ask any blade of grass whose owner is a responsible citizen. Thoughts on that regular and rigorous mowing can lead to downright confusion. Reminds me of something the Psalmist David said: “He shall come down like rain upon the mown grass...” (Psalm 72:6)
In a seeming contradiction of justice, there are times for all of us when life turns and whacks us to the ground; that’s when we need to reach for help to keep on growing. Like rain on freshly cut grass, His presence refreshes, renews and gives us both the will and strength to keep on growing.