It was just a little grass sod that I missed out on getting for free but I cried. I never cry!
A reminder of how far I haven’t come? Or maybe how far I have.
Possession. Status. A yard.
I think I’ve let go of these things. I wish I didn’t even need them but I’ve never had to live where my bed was a tarp on the ground and my one meal a day was thin vegetable broth.
Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys, and where thieves do not break in or steal; for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. Matthew 6:19-21 (NASB)
It was a friends lawn. Cut out with a sod cutter to make room for something different. Free if we could get it in time.
I shouldn’t care. I love my friends. Their generosity is why I already have a small patch outside my back door. I am by no means wanting. Grass is a luxury. I have wildflowers and space. Wild animals and family. I don’t need strips of sod.
But I cried anyway. Just a little. The news that the bobcat was moving my rolls of grass came just after family went back home and my hubby told me of an extra job opportunity that would keep him away on Saturday.
I’d thought we would get grass together on Saturday.
So it hurt. My heart broke for my selfishness and materialism. It’s never quenched.
He who has little, wants more.
He who has more, wants more.