Becoming More
Loving
By Tim Stevens
When we left Indiana and moved to
Texas, one of the things I missed the
most was my John Deere tractor. I
loved my John Deere. But more than
that, I loved mowing my grass. Some
would say I was a little bit perfectionist
about having a perfectly manicured
lawn.
We had a little house on an acre and
a half, and spending time in my yard
was therapy for me. For two hours, I
would hear nothing but the drone of
the tractor and get lost in my own
thoughts. I would brainstorm solutions
for problems at work; I would dream
about the future; I would reflect on the
people most important to me.
And, I would think about the jerk who
lived next door.
6 • Solutions
I didn’t really know Tom that well. But
I did know how to water my grass. And
I knew that Tom watered his grass for
nine hours every day (yes, I timed his
sprinklers). I shouldn’t have cared,
except our lawns bordered each other,
and my yard was downhill from Tom’s
yard. His water run-off would flood my
grass every day. It was hard to keep
it growing since it never dried out. If
I tried mowing that section, I’d leave
muddy rutted tracks.
I tried to convince Tom that he was
watering his grass all wrong. But he
wouldn’t listen. He said, “My lawn guy
“
I left that experience
convicted of the need to create
space in my life.