A Job Partially Done

We used to have a beautiful water garden, my husband and I.  But recently we converted it into a planting bed.  I don't know what kind of bed to call it, because it has yet to be planted.  Eventually it may become a perennial bed, but as of this moment we're still in the process of filling in the gaping hole that used to be a one-thousand-plus-gallon pond.




I thought we had finished that task last fall, but since the winter rains compacted the soil we used for fill, once again the outline of what had been our pond is painfully visible.  Now it resembles something similar to a six-inch-deep-and-ten-feet-wide-and-sixteen-feet-long pond -- the waterfall structure that I couldn't bring myself to destroy, along with the top, smaller section of the pond, still in place.  I have gazed out my kitchen window every day at it, and it has stuck out like an ugly, sore thumb of partial obedience.

You see, God had clearly instructed me long ago to do away with our water garden.  I didn't understand the reason why.  I ignored His instructions for many, many months.  Finally, with a less-than-cheerful heart, I began to drain and disassemble the pond.  During the pond de-construction, I became convinced that God wanted me to give up my cherished water garden because I had "reached that stage of my life" where the physical upkeep of the pond wasn't nearly as easy as it had been in years past.  I determined that God was simply trying to make my life easier.  I could accept that.  Still, I was going to miss the sound of the water cascading over the fall and splashing into that upper pool before it flowed gently into the larger section of the pond.

Then I began to think (an action that is often followed by events that are far less than ideal.)  How could I do away with the water garden, but at the same time keep the sound of water?  Bingo!  I could keep the small upper pool and the waterfall structure and mechanism.  It would only require a small pump, which I already had; and a little pond liner, which I could re-purpose from a piece of liner that had been in the large section of the pond.  I could turn it on and off with ease, and it wouldn't be something that would require the attention of a friend or family member while my husband and I were away on vacation for a few days.  So, I would be doing away with the part of the water garden that had been so much work, but I could continue to enjoy the sound of the water.  I had the best of both worlds... or so I thought.

As it turned out, the liner in the small upper pool had loosened and required re-sealing to the waterfall structure.  Then the lip of the waterfall had lost its seal to the body of the structure.  That would have to be addressed.  Then the upper pool didn't hold as much water as I thought, and the timing of the water recirculation wasn't working out.  Plus the upper pool seemed to hold more fallen leaves than water, and the leaves clogged the intake of the pump.  The obstacles continued to mount.

Initially I tackled each obstacle with an attitude of optimism.  The obstacles that soon continued to show themselves began to try my patience and my persistence.  A few weeks of fighting losing battles brought me to a conclusion.  I would simply wait until spring to address the situation.

Spring arrived.  Each morning before going to work I would sip my coffee, look out the kitchen window and gaze at that empty upper pool and the silent waterfall structure.  There they remained, a reminder of something long left undone.  Finally, I could take it no more.  I had one week of free time that could be devoted to working in my yard.  It was time to convert this eyesore into something breathtaking.

I had much more filling-in to do.  I needed dirt.  I didn't want to go to the expense or the trouble of having a dirt work contractor deliver a truck load of dirt and dump it in my driveway, leaving me to haul it one wheelbarrow at a time into the back yard.  Besides, I didn't need that much dirt.  But, where would I find the dirt I needed?  What had I done with all the dirt I removed when I was digging the hole for the pond?  I had used it to build a berm around the waterfall structure; that non-functioning, problem-causing waterfall structure that I had been so determined to make work once again.

It was time to make a decision.  Do I remove the dirt from around the waterfall structure, and give up on the idea of the sound of water?  Or, do I... do I... Do I continue to be stubborn?  Do I continue to do things halfway?  Do I continue in partial obedience?  Do I continue in disobedience?

Partial obedience is disobedience.  Those words from a former pastor's sermon kept ringing in my ears.  I had grown to feel pretty good about myself in my obedience to God by filling in the water garden.  Granted, I hadn't wanted to do it.  I didn't really have a good attitude about it at the time.  But, I must admit that I was a little smug when I would share with a friend that I had sacrificed such a thing of beauty and enjoyment because God had told me to do so.  I was being obedient.

But in fact, I wasn't being obedient at all.  I had determined to put up a front of obedience, while making every effort to keep things my way.  I was hanging on to the hope of maintaining that sound of water, no matter what.

I had been living in a season of partial obedience to God for the past couple of years.  I was over-committed, over-volunteered, over-joined, and over-obligated.  God had been telling me for quite some time to "untangle" myself from several things.  I finally began to do so, one event, one committee and one organization at a time.  I must say, it was quite liberating.  And the liberation didn't come from having blocks of time freed from meetings and commitments.  It came from obedience... a freedom from the strangling bonds of disobedience.

With my shovel grasped firmly in both hands, I plunged the blade deep into the soil mounded around the waterfall structure.  Taking as large a chunk of soil as I could manage, I tossed the dirt into the low-lying area of the former pond.  Finally... obedience.  It quickly became obvious that this would be a long, difficult and strenuous job, but I was determined to follow through.

God honors steps toward obedience.  He showed me that when my husband came home from work early, joined me in the back yard wearing his yard work clothes and carrying his favorite shovel.  "Where do you want me to dig, and where do you want me to put the dirt?" he asked.  Sweeter words had never passed through that wonderful man's lips.

We didn't get everything finished to the point of having the bed ready for planting, or even having all the soil leveled.  But all the hardware of the old waterfall structure and its accompanying water pipes, tubing and electrical have been carried away to be recycled.  There is more "undone" at this point than there was before we removed the old waterfall structure and the remnants of the upper pool.  But these past few mornings when I've looked out my kitchen window and surveyed my back yard, that area where the water garden had once been doesn't look nearly as depressing.  I no longer see reminders of disobedience.  I see wondrous opportunities laid before me by a God who patiently waited for me to trust and obey.

"Now finish the work, so that your eager willingness to do it may be matched by your completion of it, according to your means."  
II Corinthians 8:11

"Walk in obedience to all that the LORD your God has commanded you, so that you may live and prosper and prolong your days in the land that you will possess."   
Deuteronomy 5:33