I discovered another effect of being in some degree of pain all the time. I think my "that's enough" sensor has gone out. I know that's not much of a medical term, but we're bound to have one. You know, that little voice inside you that tells you when you have had enough. Not morally or ethically. I have plenty of help in that department from the Holy Spirit. I mean physically.
We worked in the yard Monday and Tuesday. It was really hot and humid. What else could it be? This is Galveston. Monday we decided to get some topsoil and fill in the hole that has formed in the spot where the big pecan tree used to stand. I guess over the years more of the root system has rotted away, causing the area to settle and sink. It was right up next to our patio area, which is nothing more than a bunch of those concrete pavers set side by side. Thus, they had begun to sink as well. That meant to get them level (or somewhat so. I'm not a surveyor by any means), we had pull up a big section of them, pour on the dirt, and spread it out evenly, then put back the pavers.
The dirt was the easy part. Just had to empty the bags, shovel it around to mix it in with the existing dirt (Now that I mention it, I guess that wasn't so easy after all), and rake it with a garden hoe until it met with Chris' approval. Well, my approval, too. That was one of those areas where I took a stricter interpretation of "even" that she did. Once that was done we simply replaced the pavers. Huh. Not simple. Those pavers were heavy. I'm pretty sure they have gained weight over the years. Maybe absorbed pure tonnage from the soil. Maybe all the weight from the missing pecan tree was mystically transferred into them. It wasn't too bad at first, but the closer we got to the end, the heavier those things became. I was determined to finish, though. Chris suggested several times that we stop and begin again the next day. Totally absorbed in the project, I rejected that option instantly. No. We must finish. So I pressed on.
And I kept going until I almost passed out. Literally. I staggered over to the shade and collapsed into a chair. I guess I must have looked bad, because Chris went right inside and got me some water. And she kept it coming until I finally admitted that I just couldn't go any more. The last rows of pavers kind of sloped downward into the grass, and I almost talked myself into pulling the up and redoing them. But Chris' logic stopped me. She said we would probably have to add more dirt in a few years to re-level it again as more of the tree decomposes. We might as well wait until then. Yeah. Good idea.
The next day wasn't nearly that bad. Chris started early weeding the flower beds, but I had to get some serious work done on the teaching for Home Bible Study. I finally joined her. Well, I went outside. I was determined to try out our new lawn mower. Hey. I had a new toy and it had an engine that made noise. That's a power tool, right? I did get the back yard done, but Chris went inside to stay out of my way. That's when I realized that I was being selfish. I just wanted to play with my toy. She really had an agenda to get the flower beds done. So I put away the mower and started weeding in the bed where she had left off. I finished that one and started on the next. And that's when I realized that in my mind I was saying, I'm not stopping until this bed is finished. A worthy goal, to be sure, but I had just said that about the other bed, and I was already picturing a third bed, or maybe mowing the front yard. This could be a problem if left unchecked. I might get too much done. Not likely. Or perhaps collapse in the process. Quite likely.
And so I realized that I didn't know when to quit. Oh, I was in pain to be sure, but I was always in pain, so I stopped using that as a reference point, pushed it aside and pressed on. My default meter then became to decide up front how much I would do and stop when I achieved the goal. It had always worked before in things like watching my weight. I just decide at the beginning of the meal how much will be enough and stop when I reach that point. Worked well in that area so why not here? Why not, indeed. Problem is, I haven't worked in the yard enough to rely on my instincts for how much will be enough. And most conspicuous in its absence here is any consideration of rheumatological issues. Or … age. There. I said it.
Hebrews 8:10 says, "This is the covenant I will make with the house of Israel after that time, declares the Lord. I will put my laws in their minds and write them on their hearts. I will be their God, and they will be my people."
Father, thank you for limits. Even though I'm not so good with them. Amen.
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