And so I run and empty the dishwasher (two different tasks, I know).

And I do the laundry and put it away (again, two different tasks).

And I mow the lawn. There are all kinds of stupid weeds growing along the fence and around the bushes, but at least the lawn is mowed.

I’m trying not to turn it into a Mary/Martha situation (Luke 10:38-42), and I’ve checked myself on the outward appearance motive, because I know it’s the wrong motivation (2 Corinthians 5:12; 1 Samuel 16:7). But considering that my first beach day of the season included me walking down to the water with a rather large, red blotch of poison ivy on my butt, I think I’m ok.

When the lawn is mowed everything looks better, less daunting, and less overwhelming.

On his podcast, Dr. John Delony often counsels callers to ask themselves a question:

What do you want home to feel like?

I want home to feel peaceful. And that’s how I feel when I pull into the driveway and the lawn has been mowed: peaceful.

It’s like when I paint a room and it looks neat and clean (because a fresh coat of paint covers a multitude of sins).

Because an un-mowed lawn reminds me that I work a lot. . . am I working too much?

Because an un-mowed lawn reminds me that I made a huge investment in this property . . . can I maintain it?

So when those ducks (and the pigeon) get out of line. . .

• The outdoor couch cushion got clawed by mice. . . but at least the lawn is mowed.
• The radiators are dusty . . . but at least the lawn is mowed.
• Half of the barn is filled with items that need to be disposed of. . . but at least the lawn is mowed.

And I am at peace . . . for at least a week 🙂