The lesson in your lawn

The grass in your front and back yards is trying to tell you something. Like beloved basketball coach Jim Valvano, it’s telling you, “Don’t give up. Don’t ever give up.”
Ten days ago I was almost afraid to walk across my lawn for fear the grass would break apart under my feet. That’s how dry and brittle it was. It had stopped growing, gone dormant, weeks ago. I had not had the lawn mower out in more than a month.
Then a miracle happened.
It rained.
Not heavy rain, mind you. Not a deluge. Just a little rain one afternoon. And a little more the next. Then a day of on and off showers.
I think you know where this is going.
As I write, my lawn is lush and green and in need of a trim.
It was dead, or so it seemed, and now it’s alive.
There’s a lesson in this. How many times are we, ourselves, just like that dry, burnt grass? How many times do we think it’s over, we cannot go on? And how many times has something entered our lives as seemingly insignificant as a cool, summer shower and miraculously revived us?
No, the grass in our yards is never as hopeless as it sometimes seems.
And neither are we.

Ed Ackerman