"On My and Mine"

my: determiner. Belonging to me. Associated with me. In the possession of me.

mine: pronoun.  My; belonging to me; that which belongs to me.

"It just happened," she said. "You got here at the perfect time."

'She' is a 93-year-old gardening client who has the spirit and spunk of a 13-year-old. For the past nine years you can usually find me on Mondays mowing Lucille's lawn or working in her garden--at least during the gardening season. Several years ago she informed me, "You can't quit until I no longer need you." Apparently (with tongue in cheek), the decision as to when I retire rests in her hands. 

'It' was the cord of her telephone charger, tightly wrapped around the beater bar of her vacuum cleaner. Unable to pull it out, she had resorted to the informational booklet which came with it and had come to the conclusion the only way to retrieve it was to cut it.

The weather forecasters had predicted a hot one today--in the upper 90's. It was my intention to get out to work early in order to beat the heat, but that hadn't happened. It was already almost noon by the time I made it to Lucille's.

This sparkler of a human always opens the door to chat when she realizes I have arrived with my mower. This morning was no different. After telling me of her dilemma, I asked "Would you like me to come in and see what I can do?" 

She'd succeeded in wrapping the entire length of the cord, and it took me a while to get it started, but once I did, it began unreeling off the bar. 

I was her knight in shining armor. As I headed off to mow her lawn, leaving her to finish her vacuuming, I thought of her comment about arriving at the perfect time. 

My life is not my own.

A pervasive fallacy of possession and ownership has spread throughout humankind. Property (known as private) is bought and sold, and the transaction is recorded at a local courthouse.  Automobiles are purchased or exchanged, and a title verifies the deal. Selling either is impossible without a piece of paper indicating the right to possession--mine.

Native Americans had a different view from the Europeans and Americans of today. They believed no one owned the land and that the land belonged to everyone in the tribe. They could not conceive land ownership was respectable. The land itself was for the use of everyone in the village, and a person's right to use it was temporary. "My" and "mine" did not exist. 

The idea of ownership carries with it the concept of control and authority. "That house, property, or car is mine, and no one can tell me what I can or cannot do with it." Children are often viewed in that same light as well. On a more personal level--"It's my body, and I have the right to do whatever I choose." Does that sound familiar? "If I want to color my hair purple, I will. If I want to be tatted, I can." On and on and on...and the laws of the land have reinforced that attitude, labeling them "rights."

In truth, I own nothing. I entered this world with nothing, and I will leave it with nothing--at least nothing that is physical or tangible. The title to my vehicle, the deed to my property, and any and all of my other possessions will be left behind. "My" isn't worth much, is it?  

Not a one of us possesses the ability to control the beat of our hearts or the capability of our lungs to take in air and process it, allowing our bodies to function. We do not own a single thing that we apply the word "my" or "mine" to. Our homes can be burned or flooded, businesses shut down due to a downturn in the economy. Our lives and those of our family members can be altered and changed forever because of health issues. We control nothing.

I live with the knowledge that my life is not my own. I breathe and function at the hand of my creator. I may plan out my days, but He is the one who actually brings them about. 

The earth and everything in it is not in possession of us earthlings. It belongs to God, and His will will be done. 

My challenge to you is this: The next time you hear yourself think or say "my" or "mine," consider the truth. Consider it in the spiritual context. The sacrifice of Christ on the cross and His resurrection resulted in redemption--for humanity--for you and for me. The price was paid. Your life is not your own.

I was at Lucille's at "just the right time"--not because I planned it that way, but because I have a daily planner who coordinates my schedule and my life. My life is not my own. I wouldn't have it any other way.

...do you not know that your body is a temple 

of the Holy Spirit within you, which you have from God,

and that you are not your own?

For you were bought with a price...

I Cor. 6:19, 20

"On the Blessing of Life"

blessing: n. Some kind of divine or supernatural aid, or reward. Good fortune. 

life: n. The state of being alive or living; the state of organisms preceding their death, characterized by biological processes such as metabolism and reproduction and distinguishing them from inanimate objects.

Blessings come in many different forms and shapes--the air we breathe, the breath we take; inner peace in the midst of a storm; human touch or the love and devotion of an animal. As humans, our lives are filled with them.

My gardening business has consumed my life for the past eighteen years. The days have been long, the work arduous and demanding. Personal time has been at a premium as my clients' gardens have been a first priority. My own garden, weed-ridden and neglected, could have been a poster with the caption "The cobbler's children have no shoes."

Over time--and it has happened gradually--my work load has lightened. Within the first two years of self-employment, I had seventy clients. I worked long hours, seven days a week. That lessened some when I moved to another area, but I still had an extensive list with large gardens to tend. Several clients passed away, others moved. I opted out of several jobs, ones which needed a crew of young men instead of a seventy-something single woman to care for them.

In the past year, I have been given time to work in my own garden.

For several years, I have wanted a wild flower garden--flowers which attract bees, butterflies, and hummingbirds. Planting anything from seed and having a flower grow has never been my strong suit, and typically that is how natural gardens are started.

While digging through a cupboard in my utility room a few months ago, I found a packet of seeds. It stated on the outside of the package that they were perennial flowers--which means they last from year to year--and that they will attract butterflies and hummingbirds. I felt like I had found the mother lode.

The date on the package was 2016. The viability of four year old seeds was in question, but I was on a mission. My soil is in bad shape, another negative before I even started, but determination took over. I scraped and scraped the hard-pack (digging wasn't even an option), mixed in bags of potting medium and compost from my compost bin. As I sprinkled the small packet of seeds on the prepared area, I was filled with more wishful thinking than hope.

I faithfully watered them every day. Getting down on my hands and knees with my glasses on, I checked for any sign of germination and growth. Success!!--as small green sprouts gradually appeared. What I did not realize was many of them were either weeds, which had responded to the love and care, or vegetable starts which came from the veggies I had composted. I could have raised tomatoes, squash, and cucumbers as well.

It has taken a while to weed out the unwanted growth, but I now have a wildflower garden. As I drove toward my home yesterday, my eyes caught blooms on the plants. They cannot be called lush and prolific, but I will provide mulch and give them opportunity to grow in the future. 

I have been blessed with life; it is evident.

In this age of materialism, we live with life all around us and think nothing of it. Children are born into the world and grow up before our eyes. The lawn needs to be mowed or I need a haircut. We trip and fall, breaking bones, or "catch a cold" (though I don't think anyone seriously sets out to do that) and, with no effort on our part, the body heals.  

Those tiny specks of seeds the size of a pepper flake contained life--God-given life. I provided the medium for them to grow in and watered them, but I did not...cannot cause them to grow. 

This is my challenge to you: The next time you say or think God is nowhere to be found, look around and note all that is living. Humankind has never been able to create life--and never will. 

We have been blessed with life. He is the creator of life. He is life. 

                                                Praise God, from whom all blessings flow; 

                                                Praise Him, all creatures here below;

                                                Praise Him above, ye heav'nly host;

                                                Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost!

You have granted me life and steadfast love, 

and your care has preserved my spirit.

Job 10:12