So yesterday, friends of ours from the city came out to see our tiny farm and they "got it!" They understood completely why we've moved our belongings and our lives out to the boonies. 

In fact, the husband said he'd told his wife upon first hearing the news something like, "Finally! In my mind I've always seen Tom and Debra living on a farm."

How sweet are kindred spirits.

We took them out to the old-fashioned malt shoppe for an early dinner, checked out the Thursday night auction items (just viewed them), then they left for home. A wonderful time was had by all.

But afterward. Hmm. Tom and I walked over to our neighbors' house and they showed us their gorgeous backyard which they've been working on, for like, more than twenty years. Garden beds everywhere, trellises, arbors, beautiful, tall flowers, a fountain-type waterfall, a deck, two raised gardens, a patio. All perfectly placed and arranged. She is a master gardener and he's a hard working man who once created the whole stone patio and waterfall for her during a few days she was away.

Me? I felt like such a greenie. A newbie to gardening life, even though I've gardened upon city lots for 25 years. And well, I don't think this woman has trusted me ever since, last week, she introduced herself and then pointed to my garden and said "Your tomato plant cages are standing upside down."

Sigh. She must think I'm a moron, but like I told her, I've grown tomatoes tons of years but I've always staked them, never caged them. The cages were here beside the barn so I decided to use them. (And truth be told, I preferred their appearance when they were upside down, but of course, I did eventually turn them over).

Anyway, so there Tom and I were over in their amazing yard and he was asking such basic questions, one I could've answered easily, but let her answer and I, instead, found myself feeling all sulky and out of sorts. (Yes, me!).  シ 

I stood there thinking, "Argh. That cinches it. Thanks to Tom, they think for certain we are both gardening idiots." (Yes, pride.) "Well, just wait! Just wait till I've had some time to work on our yard." I thought. "I'll show them I know what I'm doing. And I won't make our yard anything like theirs--and I'm gonna do it all my own way!"

Well, they walked back over here with us and right beside our flower bed she pointed and said, "That's a weed." I told her I knew it was a weed, but I liked to see it growing there. (Hey, it was the truth.) 

We stepped more around the flowers Anna had planted and I tried to throw in some names of flowers I've grown in the past--not to impress her (an impossibility)--just to keep my prideful head above water.

Mostly? Mostly I felt like an idiot and very untrue to myself.

And oh my goodness, the Holy Spirit was hopping up and down, convicting me like crazy. Especially during any of my thoughts which began with the line, "I'll show them..."

That's when He would say, "No, you will not show anyone, anything. You'll just keep puttering along, at a sane, peaceful, enjoyable pace all for the pleasure of you and Tom. Because motives matter to Me. The "why" behind what you do greatly colors the "what" --and affects the person you become. Never forget that."

I know, I know. We all know that. But sometimes we all forget in a bout of old-fashioned insecurity. And how good of God to remind us of what matters and to save us from ourselves. 

How good of Him to show us the difference between creating a Life from joy and one from strife.



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