When I was in high school, I had to take a lawn mowing class. You read right. I was told I couldn’t graduate from high school unless I took this class (although I’m not so sure I believe that now…)
One vibrant spring day I climbed up onto a John Deere Zero Turn Mower. I sat down feeling a little nervous and began our test where I successfully ran over every safety orange cone in sight, turned the mower left when I was trying to go right, and barely missed smashing into the side of the middle school building.
I made a 53 on that test. It was my lowest grade in all of high school. A lawn mowing test?! I could memorize formulas and write essays, but once you put me in the driver’s seat surrounded by unfamiliar territory, I began to crash.
In the midst of this pandemic, I’ve had my fists tight clutching to an unfamiliar steering wheel. One I do not know how to navigate, yet I keep hitting the gas even when those around tell me to slow down and read the manual before I jump behind the wheel.
I’ve felt the Lord tugging me from the driver’s seat and asking me to watch Him tend to the yard before I try my hand at it. I hear Him asking me to soak up the sunshine while He drives and to open His guidebook and dive further into the instructions.
I can’t memorize and study my way through this moment; I have to rely on my Father who has steady hands on the wheel.
I proved I could have steady hands too, just in other ways. Like signing my lease the minute my soon-to-be landlord said lawn care would be included with rent. Pick your battles.