Palm bushes must die

Today, I hacked, literally, hacked with a hatchet, until the monster palm "pineapple" bush was taken down. It took probably over an hour on Sunday to cut the branches, attempt to dig, and finally give up until a great friend, one who has been there before gave me the inside scoop on how to attack the beast with results. So, I rummaged through her garage, with permission of course, found the said hatchet and stump killer, and went to hacking and chopping and sweating until I conquered the giant. May not seem that impressive on the outside, maybe not even so impressive with the pictures you see here, but when you are the one with blistered hands, tired arms, and dirt spattering your person it is a great accomplishment to see it to completion. I have always been one to thrive on manual labor...to have days filled with minimal thought and maximal physical exertion. I enjoy sweating. I don't glisten, I don't perspire, I sweat. Yay for the man who will one day find that slightly attractive;)
In all that I am happy. My arms are lethargic, my hands having trouble maintaining limberness to tap out the keys on the keyboard, my back even feeling like it had a bit of a workout...but my brain is clearing. The funk acquired by working 10 hour days in the midst of death and dying and healing, though it's harder to rejoice in the healing when next to you is sadness, when the faces of daughters and sons and mothers are red from tears and strained from emotional distress...when the chaplain is on the unit, usually not a good time...
God, thanks for being there to comfort the daughter and son and mother. To be with the dying as they struggle to make sense of where they are and why people dressed in all one color come in and make them do hard tasks and don't give them water, when all they want is clear water, not Ensure, just water and good tasting food.
God, thanks for the mother with a sore hip who is sitting and standing and eating, even though it's not home cooking. Thanks for workers who love and sweat alongside those who are hurting and those who are healing.
Do you sweat alongside while we struggle to chop through the thickness of life? Do you feel at times you are working so hard to break through to me or to cut sin out of my life that your hands are red from trying and your back feeling the weight of it all? Yeah, I think you do, but in a "I'm God and can handle it" way. I think you are there if nothing else but sitting with me as I chop and pointing me to sweet spot that will allow the trunk of the huge pineapple like palm bush tree thing to be felled.
Which brings us to the ever famous "If a tree falls in the forest and no one is there to hear it, does it make a sound?" Yes, okay, it does. God knows, God hears.
God cares. God gives, God allows us to struggle and hack and chop and refine ourselves and our thoughts and He rejuvenates us when we need a drink of cold water or a break from the emotional fog with a day of hard labor.
Thank you God for ginormous palm bushes.

Sunday:

Tuesday