The little patch of grass in front of our house took a beating. What it needed was water and tlc, what it got was a heat-wave and us away in Morocco.
Before we went to Morocco we had a new block-paved drive laid. With the patch of grass in front being the working space for piles of rubble, deliveries of slabs, tons of hardcore, pallets of blocks, bags of concrete, an old wall removed and a new one built, and a “redundant path” de-slabbed … that patch of grass took quite a beating.
It was never pretty. It was just grass. Always been there. Rough, tough grass. Street grass. But it was what it was. And even street grass needs tlc after something like that. So we spread a few bags of cheap fertiliser soil stuff. We laid some turf on the de-slabbed path. We sprinkled grass seed over the rest. And we got an extension for the hosepipe so it would reach to the front of tho house.
But a week later we caught a plane to Morocco and left behind our street grass to a mini-heatwave and no water.
I see the same with us humans. We are what we are and then life “beats us up” a bit or a lot. And our friends and family gather. But all too soon they are off doing their living again. And the “mini-heatwave” kicks in. And we falter. Our getting back to normal (whatever that is) stutters. “Won’t somebody dance with me … take a chance with me?”
Yesterday I went back to work. No time in my day to stand with a hosepipe for hours. I am busy. I have things to do. People depend on me doing my job. My loved ones need me not on my own with one small patch of street grass. So I found a wee garden pot thing to hold the business end of the hosepipe. And – by putting the tap on low and leaving the pot thing/hosepipe to sprinkle an area – I went back to work. An hour later I moved it all and sprinkled another area.
When it comes to living I have yet to find any loved one who can give me that kind of time and “there for me” support. Not in the middle of the night. Or that sudden moment in the middle of something that makes no sense. Or the same thing time after time. Or the endless why … the rollercoaster that never stops … just keeps going around and around endlessly.
No one can ride that with me. Not without intruding – adding to the pain. But adding to the pain by not riding alongside – not in that certain way (that changes from second to second). That is impossible for anyone to be or not be.
Apart from one.
Who will stay when all others go. Who will not expect me to “move on” at a pace expected by others. Who will not make me feel a burden. Who will accept my ranting and anger. Who will absorb my tears and exhaustion. Who will stay even when I scream for Him to go. Who will take all my fighting and pain, my ups and my downs, my endless rollercoaster even I wish would stop. Who I do not need to make “happy”. Who I do not need to “consider His feelings”. Who will ask nothing of me yet give a lifetime of “being there”. Who will let me be me. Who will wait for me to become me. Who will accept being me is trial an error – with a lot of error.
I call Him GSHJ. What you call him/her/it is up to you.
Because even in that He makes no demands.