The snow is melting taking the evidence of all my hard work with it. Soon, the path I shoveled so Silver could get to the fence will be gone. The piles around the drive that I heaved so my husband could get to work and my daughter could get to school – gone. The swath I cut so my mailman could get to the box and the UPS delivery guy could get to the porch – gone. Even the sharp corner of snow on the street, piled high by the plows, that I removed to help turners come ’round the bend will soon be gone. All gone.
Nothing left. Vanished. But for the smile of the post man, the quicker step from Mr. UPS, the sigh of relief from daughter, the on time arrival of husband, and the paws that continue to find their way. Traffic will give it no further thought.
It was nothing, really. And now it is.
“Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.” ~ (2 Corinthians 4:16-18)
“Oh, but it’s your passion, Wendy.” Well, yes, I do like to exercise and be outdoors and eat healthy foods and generally take care of my body. But that’s not actually the point. Don’t lump me with those ‘world’s biggest loser’ fans or those ‘organic everything’ fanatics or those ‘Xtreme sports’ folk. I am really just a regular soul.
The thing is, that soul is in a body. The two are right there together. Like Siamese twins, never separated at birth. One feeds the other. One comforts the other. One supplies the other. One supports the other. And the One and then the Other are reversible. Like a jacket you can wear either way, inside out or outside in. Either way works. Not meant to be separated.
Nothing, for me, is strictly a mind issue. Nothing is simply a work of the spirit. Nothing is ever just about the body. The three come with me wherever I go, whatever I do. When I’m still and thinking or out and moving. When I am sad and crying or happy and rejoicing. When a problem needs solving or a lesson needs teaching. I bring the whole kit and kaboodle.
So, of course when my husband said, “Let’s grill burgers,” I was undaunted by the many inches of snow remaining between back door and grill. The forecast said warming and a bit of sun. Well then, shovel I will. Can’t get quite to the wood slats, still a bit of ice under that snow. Could be slippery. But somehow, knowing the sun will enter in with its diligence to do its part, the shoveling will not be for naught. That hope inspires, strengthens and makes sense. We’re a team, me and the sun.
I’ll tell you a secret: I love shoveling and have since a very young age. Sealed the deal that night when my dad and I cleared away the 4 or 5 inches together. He proclaimed us done, for after all, it wasn’t a “snerious snow.” Next morning, the 26 inches piled on our deck spoke otherwise. So we plowed through that, too.
Nope, I don’t do it for the exercise. Not the calorie burn or the upper body strengthening. Not even for the sense of accomplishment. I suppose you could call it a passion, but to me, making a path just seems a reasonable way to go through life. I do my part. The sun does its part. And my husband pitches in.
A three in one effort that brings us to dinner.