We have two lawnmowers -- a rider and a pushmower. Both of them broke down last weekend.
Our yard looks somewhat like a kid with a bad haircut -- the kind Daddy gave me, along with lame encouragment, "Don't worry, son. It will grow back eventually."
A half scalped lawn, seems a worthy cause for complaint. In fact, last evening, I grumbled against the weeds in my overgrown back yard, fussing over the fastest, cheap way to fix it.
This morning, a reading of Psalm 96:12, re-set my attitude:
"Let the fields be jubilant and everything in them. All the trees of the forest will sing for joy; they will sing before the Lord, for he comes, he comes to judge the earth."
While I grumbled, the weeds praised.