Forsaken Son

Easter is nearly here. On Sunday morning, my family will wake up, get dressed, and join with countless others around the world to celebrate Christ's resurrection from the dead. We will sing praises to God that are filled with barely containable joy. We will listen, with enraptured hearts, to a sermon proclaiming the wonders God has done for us through Christ Jesus. But now, in this week leading up to Easter, we remember the awful things that lead up to our Easter joy. As we read the events found in the Gospels, we come face to face with pain, suffering, grief, and unimaginable love.

Grass Mowing Goats

...I hate mowing my grass...

I hate mowing grass. Let me rephrase; I hate mowing my grass. A good part of our yard is low, so water collects from our yard and from our neighbors' yard. This means it takes twice as long for it to be dry enough for me to not leave holes and ruts when I mow. All the excess water feeds gigantic clumps of crab grass, not to mention a variety of weeds, that grow twice as fast as the centipede grass that is in the rest of  the yard. On top of that, if my grass gets too tall, I run the risk of receiving a fine from the city. So, if it rains on a consistent basis, I find myself in ankle deep marsh sludge using my weed eater to knock the tops off the mutant grass and weeds that infest my yard. There are many days that I have wished I owned some goats to make the whole thing easier.