the rhythm of laying bricks

Another project I worked on this weekend was laying a brick border around the mulch garden beds along the side and back of our house. Once again this is a project that I have neglected to do while we lived in the house, and now that we are selling the house it seems odd that I would put hours of work into something that will be enjoyed by someone else. Nevertheless, I picked up 60 bricks to start. According to the real garden pros I did it completely backwards. I laid the mulch and planted the ferns and then came along with the brick border. As I laid each brick I found it very interesting that the edge of where the mulch ended and where the dirt was the obvious place the brick would lay. It was like the bricks had a certain place to lie, I just had to get down on my hands and knees to touch feel and see where the place was. I remember thinking, God are you helping me with this project today? Do you already know where each brick goes? Why do you allow me to lay the bricks? What if I put them in the wrong place?

Somehow in the humble position bending down, I seemed to enter into the rhythm of the way the bricks were going to go. If I saw some weeds in the path, I pulled them out. If I saw the mulch was too clumped together, I would spread it out or shape it to the path of the brick. Again the rhythm of laying the brick seemed to guide me on its own. Near the end I realized I was going to run out of bricks, so I went and got 40 more bricks. I was really exhausted, but I knew I was in this really awesome brick border grove. I couldn’t stop. My shirt was soaking in sweat. My face was getting sun burned. My legs, thighs, and lower back were just throbbing, but I had to complete the work.

I laid the bricks, brick by brick. With a short pause, I reached into the wheel barrow to select a brick to lie down. So there must have been some connection not only to the path but to which brick would go in what place. Everything seemed to be connected, yet I was unaware that there was a connection. I was just busy with the work.

As I looked up at the end of my toil, I enjoyed the work of my hands. I enjoyed that what was once debris, weeds, and shapeless void had know become a path of growing beauty full of potential. Somehow I found real joy in knowing that one day someone else was going to enjoy the fruits of my labor.

Here is the plain truth. Our house the inside, the outside, the roof and everything in-between, has been completely cleaned or repaired bringing it to a condition better than it was before we bought it some 10 years ago. I can not help but to have this deep sense that now not only is the house ready for its new owner, but we have completed the preparation for the new owners. It is finished.

Who will the new owners be?