Pondering servanthood

The sun was shining and a light scent of orange blossom was caught up by an occasional breeze as I pulled up weeds with the garden fork to prepare my spring flower beds yesterday. There is that word, prepare. Since my garden, affectionately dubbed “Fergie Shire,” the backdrop of my next book, is still “under construction,” such labor is .. well. Laborious.

Some would not say it is fun to de-weed. I had a couple of helpers, two of my friend’s sons, whose expressions told me this was not their idea of fun. One, whom I call “Maestro,” from time to time because of his pursuit of Beethoven, wrinkled his nose and said “this is hard work.” Suddenly, I felt like I was running Kathy Leigh’s farm for wayward boys, and my friend laughed, telling her son, “that is the idea.”

Within about a half hour, he had his patch done, and I showed him how to plant a hibiscus, so as to allow it room to grow. He then mulched and all was well. And yes, he seemed satisfied at this point.

For a few days now, I have pondered what it means to be a servant. Today, the word seems to have a negative connotation. Like it is beneath us to serve. Yet there is such beauty in being a servant. I think of my great-grandma’s kitchen. Every Sunday, a meal after church. Always something good on the table. My dad had a heart for the poor. Countless times we were bagging up some of my clothes and toys to help others. Once, when I was putting in long hours at work and had to also move out of my apartment, my best friend rallied her family, and they took care of it all. All I had to do was run the vacuum and I was done. Priceless. Another friend used to randomly bring me a cup of McDonald’s regular black coffee. Gold! Acts of service are all around us. Little things, like holding open a door, or carrying groceries, larger things – like visiting a shut-in or sending a card (who does that anymore?) .. bringing a pot of soup to a new mom who is sick, all serve others.

What are some things people have done for you? How does it make you feel as you think of those things? What is something you can do for someone else? Start small. Little things mean a lot.

Here’s to a very happy Monday! Have a blessed day, all.

P.S. My neighbor’s rooster crowed all day yesterday while I was in The Shire. That is when I discovered a second rooster, crowing from another neighbor’s yard. They seem like happy chickens.

 

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