BitterSweetLife

During summer vacation I leave behind my lofty status as a teacher associate (sub) and apply myself to the intricate responsibilities entailed by a lawn healthcare specialist position. Mostly this means cutting down weeds and hoping they won’t grow back.

But every job has its little perks.

Numero uno is the fact that the lawn service (owned by enterprising younger brother—no kidding) has acquired headphones and CD players this year. So day after day, covered with grass entrails and sweat, I’ve been soaking in much more than sun. Hour after hour of John Piper, Ravi Zacharias, and other brilliant thinkers, has been ingested.

While my arms are wrestling the overheated weed-whacker, my mind is scrapping with the likes of Martin Luther, Jonathan Edwards, and Augustine. While I’m scanning lawn edges for symmetry, my inner eye explores subjects like Calvinism, suffering, and sex and the supremacy of God.

In light of all this, mud sprayed in the eye doesn’t smart quite as much.

Perk number two involves another climate, another time—almost another world. No, not heaven, in this case, but Colorado. In August I’m planning to make a Long’s Peak summit attempt with some friends and family, an effort that will demand considerable strength and stamina. Long’s Peak, the Rocky Mountain Park system’s most infamous 14K mountain, is a 16-mile day hike that has claimed its share of incautious victims.

Several weeks ago, weakened by the pale glow of extended classroomitis, I wouldn’t have had a fighting chance. But few things increase physical grit like eight-hour days spent striding through 90 degree heat, carrying equipment at all times. If my biceps and calves are any indication, Long’s Peak has already been conquered. I will just need to show up and claim the victory.

All this goes to show that sometimes opportunity goes around strangely dressed. Sometimes she wears this kind of sweaty, muddy green.