Therapy

When I had my meniscus repaired last summer I had to go to physical therapy after the surgery. One day we were with friends and we were making some plans and I said that I would not be available at that time because I had to go to therapy. Cheryl was surprised at my remark—why I don’t really know because she knows me so well. She quickly corrected me and said that I had to go to physical therapy. I guess she did not want our friends to think that I was going for mental therapy. I kind of like to leave people in suspense every now and then.

We all have different activities that we consider our therapy—I am talking about the type that helps us cope with stress and emotional fatigue. I hear of a lot of my men friends talking about how golf or tennis is their therapy—I am sure that works for many women also. Fishing, biking, jogging, canoeing, kayaking, and hunting are stress-relieving activities for many men and women.

 In different seasons of my life I have enjoyed some of these activities and considered them fun and relaxing. However, in my present season hobby farming is my therapy. I like playing in the dirt and taking care of farm animals. Fact is I have enjoyed doing these things all of my life, but in some places we have lived in the world I have not been able to pursue my avocation.

Last week my dad sent me some pea seed. Yes, we have pea seed in northwest Georgia, but I only plant a special pea seed—Mississippi pinkeye purple hull peas. That is the same pea that I cut my first teeth on while growing up in and around Greenwood, Mississippi. Cheryl and I planted our garden before we went to Jacksonville, and a friend has been tending to the garden during our absence. The deer ate my peas while we were gone. I am thinking about having some deer jerky this winter. It has been very dry since we have returned from Florida; finally, we had some rain last night. I had a great therapy session late this afternoon planting my peas.

I thank God regularly for giving us a small plot of land so I don’t have to leave home to get my therapy. This time of year when I leave work I don’t mind telling my colleagues that I am going for therapy. They know me and understand that I am headed to the garden. I praise the Lord for letting me be a steward of His resources.