Dirt

Ask me what I did today...





Well, thanks for asking.

We had dirt delivered today. Our front yard is a little patchy and uneven, so my husband went this week and ordered some dirt to fill in the front and grow some grass.

My husband is in Texas doing a Chain Reaction weekend at our friend Pastor Kevin's church. So I was given instructions to tell the dirt dude to back his truck up into the yard and dump the dirt there.

Well, the dirt dude shows up this morning (wearing khaki pants and a white shirt, which I thought was a strange outfit in which to deliver dirt) and says he can't get his truck in our yard that way and he's going to have to dump it somewhere else. I can tell this is NOT going to be good, but agree to let him dump it in the driveway, and I know my husband is not going to be happy because dirt indeed goes in a yard, not a driveway.

So, yeah. He's not happy. And I'm looking at the dirt thinking, "How hard can it be to move some dirt?"

Well, three hours later I have my answer.

Dirt is heavy, by the way.

Two shovels, a hoe, a wheel barrow, my 13-year-old son and my friend, Rachel, and I got all of that dirt into the yard and, though I know my arms and back will probably be aching tomorrow, I'm pretty proud of us. It was a lot of dirt and a lot of work but it's done and my husband was pleasantly surprised when I told him.

So that's what I did today. I moved a big pile of dirt. I could probably create some wonderful analogy of how that pile of dirt is like our lives and how we can overcome just one shovelful at a time....

... but I'm too tired!