Symmetry of Heaven

G.K. Chesterson once wrote that “anything worth doing is worth doing poorly at first.” I guess that’s true about everything. I say this all the time when questioned about prayer. If prayer is worth doing, it’s worth doing poorly at first. The only way to get better is to pray. 

This played out as Makayla and I christened my fire pit on a sunny afternoon this fall. Once it was crackling I got the urge to give the back lawn a cut to make everything look fresh.  

Makayla asked when she would be old enough to cut the lawn. While that wasn’t on my radar, opportunity was knocking. I could do it much faster and cleaner myself, but our self-powered Toro is a champ and once following a straight line it’s an easy go. But was she serious? 

The mower needed gas, so I told her that I’d teach her when I returned, fully expecting she’d be off on another adventure before I got back and then I’d quickly cut the lawn. Not so, however. She was enthusiastically waiting when I pulled the car in. Hmm, maybe she was serious!

Pulling the mower out, showing her how to engage the drive wheel, I wondered what I had gotten myself into. Starting the engine, I made a few passes. “Point the wheels along this line,” I said. She walked carefully alongside, studying my moves. Finally, I gave her a chance at pushing the mower. She had difficulty at first, but soon got the feel of the mower pulling itself. Steering, however, was another story. She angled back and forth in the general direction, but my hope for beautiful lines were fading.

It’s the symmetry that gives me such satisfaction when I mow. So, I tried to compensate as I made my pass up the yard. After a few passes of switching back and forth she said, “Dad, I want to try and go up and back by myself.”

“Ok, just stick that front wheel in the groove and follow that line up and back,” I said.

“I will,” she said. And off she went. 

It was a drifting, wiggly line, but she made it up and back. I tended the fire and watched as she worked to steer the roaring beast, and noticed that if I lowered the push bar, she’d have an easier time. That made all the difference. Boy, was she excited.

“I’m mowing, Dad!” her big smile said.

“Yes, you are, and doing a great job, too!”

I praised her each time she came near and raised a “thumbs up.” “Keep following the line,” I’d say, but realized that wasn’t going to happen. She went in the right direction, but the lawn resembled more of a patchwork of good intentions. The standard wasn’t mine, but she was really doing the work, so I stopped trying to correct her happy attempt. 

After an hour, the whole backyard was 90% cut and the edges and missed spaces didn’t matter. Nobody sees the backyard. That symmetry satisfaction had been lost, but I found something more satisfying. A smiling little girl, wiping her sweaty forehead and asking, “So, how much do you think I should get for mowing the lawn?” Did I mention that she’s quite a little negotiator?  

“Half the yard gets half the pay,” I said. She was excited and said, “So, would I get the other half if I did the front?” Surprised by her industrious attitude, I nodded. There are more trees and structure in the front yard, and it needs more attention as it’s on display to everyone passing on our heavily-used road. I’d have to help a little because I wanted it to appear clean and presentable, but I had the feeling that wasn’t going to happen. 

As I let her loose, I was reminded how the Father always includes me in His works. How He shows me the basics, and I meander all around, sometimes missing the obvious, but trying my best. He doesn’t need me to accomplish things, but He invites me into real action. By that look on Makayla’s face, that sense of satisfaction in her walk, I knew I was witnessing the way of the kingdom. This is how the Father would have it. This is how He teaches all things, especially prayer.

She zigged and zagged for another 30 minutes, finishing the yard. It wasn’t beautiful, but it was to me. Standing in the middle of the lawn, I watched. Car after car passed by, noticing the work. Eyes first on her, and then on me smiling with pride. 

I had been, imperfectly, reflecting the way God the Father works with His kids. He invites us into His work, shows us how it’s done, makes it easier for us to try and allows us to go for it.

At the end of that day, stories were told. “I mowed the whole yard myself, and Dad paid me for it.” She proudly surveyed her work, pointing out to mom and brother where it was hard, but that she just pushed harder. She talked on and on, and I watched.

It’s a wonderful thing when the Lord puts a mirror up before you and He shows you Himself in the reflection. 

I had been, imperfectly, reflecting the way God the Father works with His kids. He invites us into His work, shows us how it’s done, makes it easier for us to try and allows us to go for it. Your prayers might be rough and ugly but it all counts to Him. He allows us to feel the ownership of a job well done, with reward following. 

Knowing the Father and understanding Him in this way brings an ownership of His ways and that brings the symmetry of heaven to our lives. 

What are you perhaps doing poorly, yet properly?