I confess: I was afraid to try to start my lawn mower again. Maybe I used up all my miracle miles with it on that divine day and the next weekend, the thing wouldn't work at all.
Here’s the back-story…
We had this wonderful eco lawn mower for nine years: a rechargeable battery-operated Black and Decker that was super quiet and hadn't had any mechanical problems since we'd bought it. For two years prior, the battery had clearly been fading as it began to take more than the normal one recharge to mow the entire lawn. Toward the end of the last year, it was taking about four charges total, two each for the front and the back to get the job done. Then it started taking about eight recharges to mow the entire lawn. Every week it got worse so that we couldn’t mow for more than about two minutes and the battery would die. We were mowing the lawn every day it didn’t rain and couldn’t get the whole lawn mowed over two weeks time—by a long shot. Plus, the lawn looked terribly haphazard: The grass (and the dandelions) were at varying heights every few feet, making it look like someone very drunk, very anarchic—or both—had mowed it.
Another item of importance to this story: Our financial situation was not optimal then. We were swamped with medical debt from my husband’s ruptured disc. He’d essentially been laid off from his position, and we hadn't had a full paycheck in many weeks. Somehow I wasn't really stressed about this. I knew God was watching out for us. One day, during this time, when I was out doing errands, I had this deep abiding peace come over me. I reflected to myself, "I know we’re in God’s hands, I know everything is going to turn out okay." I then “over-heard” my spirit guides say to each other, “By golly, she’s got it, she’s really got it!” Right after my oh-so-hilarious guides humored themselves at my expense, I crested the top of a hill in my car and overhead I saw three eagles circling over me. I love confirmation from the universe: snarky disembodied voices, eagles, whatever. I’ll take anything. I’m not picky.
But peaceful feelings aside, with the financial situation we were in, we couldn't afford to get another lawnmower, new or used, let alone a new battery. We tried using our weed-whacker as a substitute, but that just made the lawn look like someone on crack had tried to fix the drunken anarchist’s work.
So on the day before that divine day, I tried to mow a little bit again in high hopes but low expectations. The mower lasted about a minute and then I had to plug it back in again. The next day—the divine day—it was blessedly still not raining, so I thought, "Well, I’ll try and at least even up over some of the weed-whackered areas." But after getting the mower started, within a minute (again), the needle on the battery gauge went from F to E, the battery whined in a descending pitch like it was going to die (again), and I had only mowed a couple of measly strips.
So, I prayed. “Angels of mine: I know you’re good at energy and charging things." (I was also thinking, Heck, I know this because you’ve been charging and shocking my body now for years rewiring me, but I was—unlike my guides—too polite to actually put this snarky comment in as a part of my formal request.) "Could you just charge this mower for me please?”
And wouldn’t you know? The battery gauge stayed at empty and actually dipped below E and didn’t move from there at all. Yet I was able to keep mowing. I mowed and I mowed. I was able to finish the entire front lawn and so I thought, "Gosh I should just keep going."
So without turning it off—because I was afraid maybe it wouldn’t restart if I did—I opened the gate of the fence and set off into the jungle that is our back yard. It’s thick with moss, dandelions, and clover interspersed with dense weeds of mysterious origins. Add to that the thorny blackberry shoots sprouting up all around the edges of our evergreen bush-lined fence, and you see the Herculean task my battery-challenged mower had that day. Even on a good day, back when the battery was working fine, our mower would bog down in it. But hey, I was able to keep mowing the back yard, too—even the tallest grass! I was also sweating like I had run a half-marathon, which time-wise was about equivalent. I must confess: I was totally worn out before the mower was, but I wasn’t going to stop. It might not start again!
About an hour into my miracle mow, my husband, a true skeptic in the philosophical sense of the word, wandered into the back yard, looked at me quizzically, and questioned, “Is that still going?”
“Yup, I prayed over it and it’s still going.” He rolled his eyes at me in response and went back inside the house.
After another forty-five minutes when I was almost done, he came back outside again. “It’s still going??”
“Yup,” I said laughing. (Apparently, I say “yup” and “nope” a lot when I’m mowing—my backwater hillbilly ancestral genes revealing themselves when they feel most at home—outside doing chores.)
My beloved husband started coming up with all sorts of interesting “theories” as to why the mower’s battery was suddenly coming to life as if it had just been transformed into the Energizer Bunny battery.
“Maybe only the gauge was broken.”
“Nope, the battery was totally dying after just a minute the last couple of weeks.”
“Maybe, the battery just needed a good charge.”
“Nope, the mower didn’t ever mow the entire lawn on one charge even when it was new."
Finally, I cut him off and said, “Honey, you’re looking a miracle square in the face and refusing to see it.”
He retorted, “Well start praying about my job then.”
“It’ll be okay. The universe is giving us a sign. Everything will all be okay.”
I then stepped profoundly into the middle of doggy doo-doo.
I hadn’t picked up the doodie in the back yard where the dog lives before I began mowing because that would be ridiculous, nay, impossible, to think I’d be mowing the front and back lawns on the same day, let alone on the same battery charge. I had seen a couple of piles of doggy doodie when I had started mowing in the back, but I didn’t want to stop the mower and go get bags to pick it up, just in case, as I’ve stated, it wouldn’t start again. Obviously, I was rather superstitious about this miracle. Or maybe I was just selfish, but I wanted my entire lawn mowed, so I wouldn’t risk turning off the miracle.
Thus, the doggy doodied shoe didn’t bother me in the least. I guffawed heartily at the trickster prank the universe pulled on me and kept right on mowing. I mowed everything I could think of, under the bushes, on all the sides, the extra tall grass that was creeping up on the edges of everywhere—I finally had to give up. There was nothing left to mow—absolutely nothing. I even double-checked with my husband, “Do you see anything I missed?”
“Nope. It’s done.” (Yups and nopes are contagious, I guess.)
So reluctantly I turned my miracle off and plugged it back in. My son came home soon afterward, the one who usually does most of the mowing, and asked his dad, “How did the lawn get mowed?”
“Mom mowed it.”
“How is that possible?” my son queried, knowing full well the hopelessness of trying to mow the lawn over the past few months.
“Mom says she prayed to her angels and they kept it going. We’re going to be hearing about this miracle of hers for the next ten years.”
My son laughed.
The most mundane of miracles happened today. That’s okay. I’ll take it. I’m not picky. To me it shows the Source isn’t just concerned with our inner workings, but also our outer workings, even the minutiae of mowers and money, or lack thereof. But hey, I’m happy—my lawn looks fantastic.
Till next week anyway.
Questions for Reflection: What are some mundane miracles you’ve experienced? Do you have people in your life who scoff at miracles? What part of you is a skeptic that would like to be awed by the in-breaking of the dawn into the despairing places in your life?
*update: The lawn mower battery never worked again! The miracle must've worn it out, but my husband was fully employed soon after this event. :)
If you are so moved and are able, please consider supporting my writing by making a donation (PayPal Donate button in the right hand column) or buying one of my books. Thank you!
Monica McDowell is a dynamic speaker, author, and practitioner in alternative wellness and spirituality. Find her on Thought Catalog here.She is the author of The Girl with a Gift, Confessions of a Mystic Soccer Mom, You are Light (internationally published by 6th Books in over 14 countries) and My Karma Ran Over My Dogma,and has the distinction of being the first ordained minister in America granted civil rights by a federal ruling. She lives in Seattle, Washington, USA, and can be reached at email@example.com.