March 18 – “Clearing the jungle”

We had some movement in the yard next door yesterday.  I mean literal movement.  Once again there was someone in the yard taking pictures.  The yard I refer to is the one with the house on it that has been virtually untouched since Hurricane Ike more than two years ago.  The yard hasn't been fully cleared of debris in all that time either.  I have mowed what I could reach on occasion, and I have kept a strip of land cleared about four feet back from our property line.  Only on about three or four occasions has the city sent out a team to mow, and they have never cleared out the brush and downed trees and limbs covering the back yard.  And since the bank has taken over the property, the only people they have sent have been photographers.  So I naturally assumed that's who was there yesterday.   As has been our custom – when we realize someone is prowling around on that property, one or both of us head outside on the pretense of doing some yard work or letting the dogs out – I went into the back yard and Chris headed out the front.  By that time another guy was actually mowing grass in the front, though he had already run over several branches and discovered the hidden trunk of the massive pine tree that used to tower over the house.  He was not very happy.   The picture-taker in the back was quite amiable, as several others have been over the years.  And he had a specific complaint, also as every other has had over the years.  He had been told that there were a few tree limbs down that needed to be hauled away, none of which was bigger than six inches in diameter.  "Just look at this," he groused.  "That's an entire tree over there.  And these limbs are much bigger than six inches.  I just brought a simple bow saw.  I'll need a chain saw to take care of all this."  He certainly got no argument from me on that one.  This was lining up toward the same results we had seen so many times before.  He did assure me that they would get it done.  "Probably be back tomorrow."  OK.  I'll hold my breath.   Amazingly, he and his crew began to pick up branches and old wood and some strips of siding and an old awning.  Their trailer slowly began to fill up.  The front yard mowing was completed.  They had already done more than any crew before them.  And then they were gone.  The trailer disappeared as suddenly as it had arrived.  And alas, the job was not yet complete.   But wait.  An hour or so later the noises began again.  This time noises of machinery began to waft from the back yard.  Could that be a chain saw?  Was I really seeing two more crew members?  I watched as two of them struggled to lift a particularly large chunk of dead tree into the trailer.  I shouted encouragement, "You guys are my new heroes."  One of them threw his fists into the air in acceptance of my accolades.  And they returned once again to the back yard arena.   And I returned to my computer work.  Chris went to the quilt shop.  When she returned we went outside to check on the final result.  Amazing.  We were stunned.  The jungle had been cleared.  Downed trees removed.  Grass cut.  Quite the makeover.  And somewhere in the photographer's promises I vaguely recalled mention of work on cleaning out the house as well.  Two more years?   Isa 54:9-10 says, "'To me this is like the days of Noah, when I swore that the waters of Noah would never again cover the earth.  So now I have sworn not to be angry with you, never to rebuke you again.  Though the mountains be shaken and the hills be removed, yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken nor my covenant of peace be removed,' says the Lord, who has compassion on you."   Father, thanks for the brush-cleaning you have done on me.  It has sure taken more than two years.  And I know you're not done yet.  Amen.