Raking Leaves and Imperfections

Put your works into the hands of the Lord, and your purposes will be made certain. Proverbs 16:3

I was raking my grandmother’s yard the other day. Every leaf had fallen from the trees and her sidewalk and steps were covered. The path to her car was obscured and for her safety, the leaves needed to disappear. I looked around the yard and asked myself, “Where do I even begin?” I started at the top of the hill and raked the leaves downward, thinking I needed to work smart, not hard. As I raked, I couldn't help but imagine that the task would be easier if I had help. I began to reminisce about my grandfather, who recently passed away, and about how much fun this task must have been for aunts and uncles who always did this job together growing up. I could see the yard filled with my aunts and uncles and I imagined them at different ages. I remembered holidays I have shared there with cousins and my heart ached.

I began to think about how sometimes our lives are like the yard scattered with leaves. There’s complete chaos and we don’t even know where to begin to pick up the pieces. Once again, I wished I had some help to rake those leaves into piles. I raked and I raked. My arm began to cramp and my back hurt, but finally I had five huge piles. I stopped for a break and went inside for a drink. I sat with my grandmother and we talked for a while about how things were when she was raising her children, all seven of them. I felt a little refreshed and returned to work. When I went back outside, I realized that those leaves which were once scattered were now in nice little piles, but only half the work was done. I couldn’t leave them there. One strong wind would simply scatter them all over the yard again. I began thinking about how if our lives are like the yard scattered with leaves, sometimes it takes work to pick up the pieces and rake them into piles. Sometimes we’re scared to do this. We know it will be back-breaking work. And sometimes, we’re scared of the dirt and mud we might find under the leaves…the fragile and imperfect pieces of ourselves are exposed once the work has begun.

I tried to put the leaves into some small bags. I quickly realized I needed something bigger and stronger. I found some lawn and leaf bags, which were much more sturdy and durable. God is like the strong and sturdy bag. He wants us to pile all of our faults and disappointments, hopes, confidence and love into Him. He alone is strong enough to handle it. It does us no good to work ourselves to complete exhaustion if we are only going to hold on to the piles of leaves in our lives. Even if we leave the piles by the road for someone else to pick up, we are not taking full responsibility for our task, whatever the task might be. And even still, we run the risk of one strong wind scattering the leaves and all the hard work is null and void. We have to have somewhere to put the leaves, and we have to really get down and dirty if we want the work done. I looked at my hands, which were dirty, but I looked back at the five bags I had already filled. I felt only halfway accomplished. There was much more work to be done.

My daughter came outside to help me and I would hold the bag open as she tried to put leaves inside. As I watched her, I noticed some stubborn leaves that would fall right back to the ground every time she picked up a pile with her little arms. I thought how the leaves that wouldn’t stay in the bag are like our little imperfections, our weaknesses, our faults, our sins, and our addictions. The leaves that won’t go easily into the bag are those things we have a harder time giving to God and just letting Him handle. But God waits patiently, for us to make the decision to make a full commitment to the task at hand.

As we continued working, my daughter said, “Mommy! I can’t rake anymore because my rake is full of leaves!” Right then I realized that the rake is just like our hearts…sometimes we have to stop and pick the leaves from the rake in order to keep on going. The leaves on the rake are the burdens, sins, and imperfections that clutter our heart, and sometimes we just need a good cleansing. I carefully instructed her to pick the leaves from the rake and place them into the bag. Every few minutes, we had to stop and clean our rakes. But how often do we stop and ask God to cleanse the leaves from our hearts? I shared this story with my daughter as we worked in the yard and filled bag after bag of leaves. Believe it or not, it was a simple metaphor that even a five-year-old could understand.

My grandmother came out to check our progress and I shared this idea with her as well. At that moment, I think we both recognized that God has placed help for us in all directions. We have to be willing to ask and then to accept. No one should go through pain and grief alone and there is not a person on Earth who has to. God can clean the scattered leaves, heal broken hearts, and mend shattered lives. Just as we finished our job, the snowflakes on December 5th began to fall. I looked to the sky and thanked God for His ability to send a miracle just when I needed to be reminded of His awesome wonders.




PS....I take no credit for these photos...I simply searched for images from the web that I thought were appropriate for this piece of writing.

Dance to your Dreams...

“Dancing with the feet is one thing, but dancing with the heart is another.” ~Anonymous

When I was a little girl, I had a sign that hung on the wall in my room that read: Dance to your dreams. My favorite necklace charm was a tiny pair of ballet shoes and I wore it every day for years. I took dance classes for many years and I can’t imagine the thousands of dollars my parents shelled out year after year on shoes, leotards, costumes, classes, competition fees, time, and travel. I lived for dance and I had big dreams of becoming a famous dancer and actress. I never made it to Broadway, but I have kept a love of dance and theatre in my heart for many years.

Now my daughter takes dance and last week was recital week. This is an incredibly busy week that any family with a dancer in it living in this town knows all about. There are late rehearsals, suppers eaten on the run, and mornings that come too early. There are technical rehearsals, dress rehearsals, and finally, the real show. A year of time, effort and practice cumulates in this one week and it all boils down to the final show. Moms and dancers fill the dressing rooms. There are costumes of all colors, Capezio tights, bobby pins, hair gels, tons of make-up, cameras, body glitter spray, and too many shoes to count! Surely if all of us moms had sons instead of daughters, we could save a ton of money, right? We could buy cleats and ball gloves instead of pink tights and tutus. We could teach them about sportsmanship and never have to worry about pirouettes and pleas. The numbers 5, 6, 7, 8 would not be engrained into our heads.

But as a former dancer myself, I have to say that there is nothing that compares with the experience of the recital. There is one thing I gained from those years of dance class that money can’t buy. And rest assured that our daughters will gain it too. It takes confidence to jump on that stage like you own it, so just ask any dancer who loves really loves it what it’s like to perform. She’ll tell you that nothing compares with the experience of performing under bright lights that illuminate the stage, surrounded by music that pumps in your head and body, and before an audience whose claps and screams penetrate the dancer’s heart in a way that is indescribable.

The girls who begin dance in their early years and continue dancing through high school share a special bond. Their bond is the ultimate example of sportsmanship. They learn together, perform together, win together, learn together, and cry together. They learn to move together and think together; they must trust each other and encourage one another over the years. Without a doubt, they become a team. And without a doubt, they share memories that will last a lifetime.

My dancing days aren’t completely over. Anyone who knows me knows that I still love to perform. But now I get to share in that unique experience with my daughter. As a backstage mom, I get to stand in the wings when it’s her time to shine. I actually prefer the wings of the stage as opposed to the audience because there, no one can see me biting my lips and wiping my tears. I have more anticipation than she does as I wonder: “Will she nail her arabesque? Will she remember to smile? Will she make it to her color?” When I see her on the stage, any thoughts about money, or lack of sleep, or one crazy hectic week disappear. I see a dancer who loves the stage, loves to dream, and has the confidence to face the lights and people with grace and poise. And that is worth every penny I spend.