This morning I eagerly went out to my garden EARLY in the day. It had been at least a week since I had been able to find time to visit what has been through the years a place of peace for me. As I walked through the garden with the dirt sifting though my shoes and probably between my toes I thought of a blog post I read recently. Last week I had a visitor to my blog which led me in turn to discover their blog. You really need to check out Stuart’s writings at http://www.storyshucker.wordpress.com because I know you will enjoy your visit. Anyway, Stuart is another person who loves dirt. Not the nasty negative dirt some people like to spread, but the good clean dirt that God gave us to enjoy and grow things in while we dwell on our blessings. From that thought I went on to prepare my heart to pray and plant. By 6 a.m. I was happily checking progress on my beans. Little did I know that my peace was about to be disrupted!
There are some fun things I needed to plant so my grandchildren can explore the fun in the garden…things like popcorn and tiny pumpkins. This morning I wanted to plant another row of green beans and also some kidney beans. Rows made, I reached in my pocket and pulled out my seeds. “Father…” I started my praying as I dropped the seeds in the row. “I sure do thank you for my garden and allowing me another year to enjoy watching things grow. I can’t wait until my grandkids see these tiny pumpkins growing. And thanks for a quiet peaceful place to pray and reflect on all You have created.” Suddenly my peace was shattered!
A low flying plane zoomed over my head as it prepared to spray the nearby field. Or perhaps the pilot was practicing making rows by using the wheels of his plane certainly he was flying low enough. (The picture is not showing the lowest point of flight. The fence blocked that picture. And on the return trip the plane flew much closer to my garden.) I tried to ignore the noise and the fact that my hair was about to become tangled in the wheels of an airplane. Once more I bent to drop those beans into their row. Drop, drop, drop-step. Drop, drop, drop-step. Slowly the 2 short rows were planted, but I didn’t get much praying done. The drone of the plane was overpowering. Not only that, but the plane was literally so low I could tell the color helmet the pilot was wearing, and if my eyes had only been a bit better and my glasses not so dusty, I think I could have seen if he (or she) still had the tags hanging on their outfit. I could easily count the lights on the sides of the plane and see the little rim around each light. And yes, the pilot turned their head to glance at my garden.
Sorry folks, but that is too close for me. Once my beans were covered, I scurried into the house. I really did scurry. You could see my scurry prints in the dew that was still on the grass. Now how does all that relate to my praying? Well, sometimes the distractions of this world intrude on our time with God. The distractions aren’t necessarily wrong things. The pilot of this plane was only doing their job. Not a bad thing in and of itself, but to me, it was a distraction. I couldn’t focus on what I needed to do at the time, which was to pray. The plane didn’t STOP me from praying, but with my peace shattered, I wasn’t praying as fervently as I wanted, but this was something I could change. My praying location changed, if you will. Now sitting on my rocker, peace is restored. While I love praying in my garden, I can certainly pray just as much from my rocker.
The plane is still outside, but the droning is now similar to that of a large bumblebee, something I can ignore. And when my initial prayers are finished, I may just wipe the dust from my glasses and go back out and see if I can determine the color of the pilots eyes.