Shabbat Morning Calamity

Although it was not an ox in the ditch or an ass in the pit, this was a calamity that had to be dealt with, none-the-less, on Shabbat.  With calf bottles in hand, I opened the door to discover a strange sight awaiting me.  It all happened so fast, I probably don't have an accurate head count, but there were no less than six satisfied goats lounging around ON the front deck.  They were relaxing and ruminating in what little clean space there was.  At the sight of deck pots, flower pots, and uprooted plants strewn amidst the goat excrement, I simply lost my mind.  One war hoop and the deck was cleared!

Unfortunately my shock and awe awakened Mr. B, creating two situations to deal with, but I digress.  The gate to the deck was simply beyond repair, and upon surveying the plant damage I simply went back in the house and flung myself, face down, on the loveseat in tears.  It seems life has been exhausting with hindrances and extra demands since Pentecost.  I know this is spiritual and I'm just worn out.  The last two weeks have tried my patience!  Committing a sin physically is not usually a major temptation, but I can definitely speak before I think.  Or I should say, speak what I've got no business speaking, much less thinking.  More than anything, I really want victory over my tongue and do not want to say something that would bring dishonor to Abba.

I do still struggle with thoughts that do not need to be entertained.  I'm the type of person who doesn't usually entertain thoughts of overt sinning, but rather can lend my mind to rumination and consider what I could have said . . . With my entire deck garden destroyed, there was plenty of negativity bouncing through my brain, but none of it was aimed toward Mr. B . . . at the time.  I went ahead and completed my chores and by the time I returned I was somewhat calmer.  Since the damage was done and the goats knew they were in trouble, the only thing left to do was to apologize to Mr. B for waking him.

I came in to find him sitting in the glider.  I went on, grabbing a cup of coffee and heading to more Sabbath readings.  It then occurred to me that I should check to see if any of the plants had simply been knocked out of their pots, as that could be interpreted to be an ox in the ditch.  With plenty of now empty pots, it didn't seem that I would be breaking Sabbath to set plants back upright, if there were any.  I headed back through the living room to find Mr. B staring and asked him what was wrong.  He then proceeded to tell me how discouraged he was and how exhausted he was that there was so much hard work involved in this homesteading.  Mind you, this is the day after I'd taken him to lunch two days in a row to celebrate his birthday.  It was then, that I realized this discussion could definitely wait until after Shabbat.  I simply stated to him, that I was sorry his birthday had worn him out and I needed some time to nurse my own discouragement, as I was the one who had planted all those plants and dragged them in and out every winter and spring for the past few years.

He and I both realized this front deck calamity was not going to change Shabbat, which we do not spend together anyway, so it was time to wrap up the interaction before it went bad.  He began to say something that sounded like whining to me and I simply stated if he was tired, he should go lay back down.  I was not willing to watch him turn my crisis into his drama.  {Fortunately that thought did not fly out my mouth.]  I then headed outdoors to see if any plants had survived and lo and behold, there were a few herbs that apparently didn't appeal to goat taste buds.  I do have to admit, I secretly hoped the jalapeno plant gave one of them a little heartburn on rumination, but other than that, I did get through the Sabbath without regrets of my own behavior or words.

Although the deck still bears the aftermath of the calamity, I do believe saving uprooted plants ranks right up there with tending to an ox in the ditch.