Chainsaw Pants and A Machete

Today was a dream day. Few have been better.

First, I took my son out practice driving. My wife lets me do this until they're over their jitters. Then she takes over. Fathers tend to become very tense while driving with their newly minted permit holder. I find it keeps me in touch with the eternal and how precious, and brief, life can be. It's a lot like bungy jumping: you are out of control, there is an imminence of death, and it's not over until you stop shaking.
The lad will be a great driver. All my claims of whiplash were mostly in jest...

I also went to a workday with our church, clearing our property for a new building. That's nice and all. But the real fun was using an axe, hatchet, machete and chainsaw. Hauling trees by hand and ripping out ancient vines were a bonus. If I could have used dynamite, I could have died complete. Apparently, God still has plans for me.

There was a wholeness here working with the brothers and sisters. My son (the new driver), several boys and experienced old timers. One particular brother was a ray of sunshine. He was inspired to start a new clothing line: Chainsaw Pants. He proudly displayed the slash of inspiration. His pants were altered, and God being merciful, left his leg untouched. I say, next time, use a mannequin. Unless it cramps your muse. I suppose genius has its price.

At the height of activity, 15-20 people worked on two areas of the property, clearing away trees and brush to bring light into the overgrown area. The harmony of chainsaws, conversations with laughter, the growl of the tractor and the sound of surrender of trees and under growth. The barbeque added to the mixture of old and young, male and female, fathers and sons, nourishing the experience.

Finally, the church worship team came over to fellowship and eat. My wife leads this group and they needed time to talk, have fun and not work. They arrived with kids in tow. Teasing, food and weird stories mixed and marked the time with joy. Our psychotic miniature dachshund strolled into the scene, alternately threatening and begging for food. If she had opposable thumbs, she would rule the world. The conversation jumped from dog breeds, to feeding large pet snakes. From favorite children to abusive sisters. It was like having ring side seats to a boxing match in the zoo, where the monkeys were loose.

Saturday Triumphant! New drivers, chainsaws, food, hard labor, listening, surprising tales and no amputations. Our God is the God of all hope. And humor.

What will tomorrow bring?