Spattered

Although I rubbed off the worst of the irrigation mud off my legs and clothing, I still look and smell less than presentable. I still have one more change of water before I can hit the shower, so in the meantime, I thought I’d list all the reasons that I don’t mind being mud-spattered.

·         Mud means water. Water, especially in our drought-stricken desert, means life to the flowers, pasture, garden, trees, and hay that I’m watering today, not to mention all the birds, insects, and animals that depend on the habitat and food.

·         The fact that the mud is spattered on me means that I have the great pleasure of benevolently bestowing that water of life to all those living things. I’m most grateful for the opportunity, strength, and irrigation water to be able to do so. (Not that I wouldn’t be even more thankful for some rain!)

·         Even though irrigating can be less than comfortable—it’s really cold in the mornings now, and the gnats are thicker than thieves at dusk—it’s far more rewarding than housework. For instance, I spent about 90 minutes this morning, doing laundry, dishes, and dusting—most of which will need done again within 24 hours. In contrast, 90 minutes of irrigating will ensure that at least 10 acres of hay and pasture will grow for weeks! Furthermore, no one will even notice that I did any housework, but Hubby, the livestock, the deer and pheasants, and many passersby will appreciate the lush fields.

·         Last, but not least: living out in the country, there’s no one to see how grubby I look! 

“He lifted me out of the pit of despair, out of the mud and the mire. He set my feet on solid ground and steadied me as I walked along.” –PSALM 40:2