curse-killing through roto-tilling

Some of you may know that before Calvin's birth, I was not sure if I wanted to get an epidural as I had during my labor with Maggie. I don't really know what motivated my being unsure...I'm going to guess that a hormone enhanced fear of man played a large role. I also was wondering if maybe it was wrong to try to avoid the pain of the curse in that circumstance. Anyway, after a few hours of labor, I finally listened to my very reasonable, wise husband and got the epidural. And boy was I glad. (Now, if you are wondering what this story has to do with roto-tilling...or even curse-killing, hang on, I'm almost there.)

When we got home from the hospital, a brand new issue of Credenda/Agenda was waiting for me to devour. In that issue was this article, which has come to be my favorite, by far, from C/A - which is saying a lot. I finally understood, very clearly, what Sean had been saying to me throughout the epidural decision. While God is the one that cursed the process of childbearing, that curse is still a bad thing, a result of sin. We are not to take sin, or it's results, as good or acceptable things, but things to be fought against, whenever possible. (I am not saying that every laboring woman needs to get an epidural...it is the principle, not the specific application that is important.)

As the article talks about, the dirt is another arena for men to fight sin and it's results. My husband has been curse-killing this way for a long time. Here is almost-4-year-old Sean (and Annie Grook) showing off one of his very first weapons - his very own little roto-tiller.


Sean's dad was faithful to teach him diligence in taking dominion...


Recently Sean has had more than enough opportunity to apply this diligence...we have been getting ready to plant a new lawn, and it has been a lot of work. Among other things, he has tilled for approximately twelve hours (still a few more to go), and for two of the twelve he was gracious enough to include Calvin. In case you have never done it, carrying a twenty-three pound baby, who insists on leaning as far as he can to the left, in a backpack while doing ANYTHING for more than about fifteen minutes is quite challenging.


Cal is checking on his dad's progress here...


Posing for the camera - I love the similiarities between Sean tilling at four and at thirty-two. And look at that baby!


Okay, I have to include just one more - look at that little face. How could I resist? I do have to say that his little face was not this clean when he was finished.