September 15 – “My new hero”

I started my day with a meeting at the San Luis Hotel.  Actually the meeting was with a couple that has asked me to officiate at their wedding the first week of October.  It’s a second marriage for both, so all we really had to deal with was details for the ceremony.  They each have children, and they want them involved in the ceremony as well.  That is always a fun challenge to figure out different ways to incorporate all ages.  Their kids are in their early teens, though, so I think there will be no problems at all.  One guy will walk his Mom down the aisle.  His sister will be the maid of honor.  And the groom’s son will be the best man.  They are doing a sand ceremony as well, so I think we can figure a way for all of them to take a turn at pouring sand into the “family jar.”  It doesn’t sound like this one will be one of those hugely stressful affairs like so many weddings can be. 

I managed to make it through the entire first half of the Aggies’ football game without falling asleep.  Quite an accomplishment for me.  And at halftime I went outside to mow the grass, anticipating an extended time “communing with nature” because of our sputtering, coughing, gas-guzzling lawn mower.  I always clean the spark plug before I even begin, since it is usually black with soot.  It never really seems to make a difference, though.  And yesterday was no exception.  Sure enough, it started right up, but barely one strip of lawn in, and it was sputtering away like an old man on his last leg.  As I continued trying to nurse it along, though, I heard a sound through my no-hearing aid fog.  Someone was calling my name.  No, I wasn’t having an end of life experience calling me to the light.  It was my new neighbor Mario from across the street.  He and his wife are the current occupants of my old homestead.  I shut down the mower to talk with him.  Mario is a good guy, and he and his wife have done wonders for the yard at Mom’s old house.  I had no idea, though, that he was about to become my new hero.  He started asking questions about the lawn mower, and it didn’t take him long to figure out I had no idea what I was doing when it came to maintenance and repair of small engines.  He told me a bit about his early history of “mowing the grass at the parish for a dollar a week.  And that was with one of those push mowers that you had to provide your own power for.” 

He asked if I had a flathead screw driver handy.  That I could handle.  He pointed out a screw for me to unscrew, and I did a great job at that.  Hey, I relish small victories in my life when I know the bigger things will most certainly be beyond my reach.  What he wanted was access to the air filter.  We pulled it out, and it was a bit dirty, but I had cleaned it the best I could a time or two before.  He assured me that it was the problem, and he disappeared with it into his workshop.  I think his wife felt sorry for me, so she came over to talk while he was gone.  I brushed off the outside of the mower so it would at least look like I was doing something helpful.  It didn’t take long for Mario to return, however.  And the air filter he held in his hand looked brand new.  I have no idea what he used to clean it, but the thing was amazing.  He explained about getting it good and soaked with gas or oil or something before putting it back on, but I was in awe of how clean it was.  I don’t think the thing was that clean when we bought the mower.  We got it put back together and I started it up.  What a difference.  It was like magic.  I turned it off again and let him know that he was my new favorite action hero, and good old Mario just smiled and eased his way back across the street. 

The yard didn’t take long at all to get mowed.  Front and back and even the strip on the side of the house by the vacant lot.  And there was gas left over in the mower when I was done.  And I still had time to watch A&M try for that last minute comeback.  Amazing.  But then I do things a lot better when I can breathe, too.  There’s gotta be a spiritual application in there somewhere.  Maybe something about how without the power of the Holy Spirit with, we can do nothing for God.  When we try to do good stuff without being connected to Jesus, the source of our power, we end up just a sputtering, coughing mess.  Sometimes we can get the task done, but then we are exhausted.  Hey, thanks Mario, for the spiritual lesson. 

Psalms 111:7 says, “The works of his hands are faithful and just; all his precepts are trustworthy.”

Father, thank you for my neighbor – and hero – Mario.  Help him to be happy.  Amen.