Today, the Spouseman and I got a cubic yard of mulch in Prattville; my job when we got home was to offload it from the back of Sherod’s truck. At one point, standing in the truck bed, shovel in hand, while the sweat ran down my back. I looked out and saw the garden stretch far in front of me–the furrows Sherod has already plowed, the crimson clover ground cover we will plow under that has enriched the soil during the winter season, all the things that will require lots from us both as spring gains a foothold and then summer does too. I took it all in and remembered strength. My body remembered what it is like to be strong and what it takes. I made myself go a few extra steps, do one more task, get more on the shovel to heave over the truck, just to open spaces beyond remembrance. Because being strong not just of mind and spirit, but of body as well is, quite simply, magnificent.
I have grown so weak in the last couple of years due to various ailments. Reading about strength and the awareness that in asking of ourselves to fill one more shovel, walk a few more steps, and believe a bit more in God and ourselves – we will become stronger.
Thank you, Rosa.
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