Lawn Theory or: How I learned to stop hurrying and "love thy neighbor."

One of the first things I learned in graduate school is there is a theory for everything. Everything. Now, I contend, not everything needs a theory. Some things, sure. Relativity, most definitely. Every day common occurrences, no.

It made me giggle when I discovered this and professors don't like it when you giggle.

For instance, there is one called Expectancy Violation Theory.

Basically, we expect certain things when we talk and interact with other people. It assumes a sort of universal truth. If you are introduced to someone at a party and you stick out you hand to shake theirs, you expect them to reach for yours and shake with you. You do not expect them to take your hand and lick it.

If they do lick it or don't shake your hand, they have violated your expectations.

I learned all of this growing up.

But, I first learned what it was called from watching Seinfeld...The Close Talker. Remember? There was a boyfriend of Elaine that would stand way too close to people as he spoke with them. That was expectancy violation theory at its best.

Well, I would like to submit a new theory. This one is called Lawn Theory.

In the tropics of Houston, grass grows all the time. Well, except for two or three months out of the year, but even then it is threatening to grow. Summertime requires weekly mowing, especially in suburbia where the home-owners association police patrol daily.

I cut my own grass. I like doing it. I like the smell of it and so many other things about it. Many of my neighbors hire folks to do the trimming, but we don't.



I like to cut mine short enough to putt on it. Think of the 18th green at Augusta.

Even before I cut mine, it usually is shorter than my neighbor's lawn. My neighbor is a single mom of three kids. She would cut her grass and many times I couldn't tell much of a difference. I would think to myself, you should adjust you mower. It is too high.

At one point it was getting really tall. The sidewalk had not been trimmed. There were patches of blades so thick that you could lose a softball in. After cutting my grass I kept thinking, she really needs to cut it. When is she going to do it?

All week I kept waiting for the sounds of a struggling mower outside my window. I would come home in the evening and nothing changed.

Finally it was time for me to cut mine again. In the summer here, it is best to wait until the "cool" of the evening. I finished as the sun was setting.

I looked over at this increasing jungle and finally a veil was lifted from my heart. Something must be going on. What is she dealing with? Life must be harder than normal. What is wrong with me? Start cutting her grass. I did.

It was hard work. I had to raise the mower a couple of times just so it wouldn't die.

It was getting dark and I could barely see as I was finishing up. She drove up, got out of her car and was crying. She couldn't talk at first.

Her first words were, "I'm so embarrassed."

"Don't be. Please. I'm embarrassed for not helping sooner." I said.

"Thank you. Thank you, so much!" she said with tears coming down her face.

I won't go into all the things that had piled on her in the past month, but it was tremendous. I kept thinking, I didn't know. Why didn't I know?

I quickly confess my ignorance to the hurting of another and made it worse by questioning what I thought she should have been doing. Throw in pride and I was a pretty bad example of Christ.

Later I realized Lawn Theory. When things are going bad, despite the best efforts to cover it up, it can sometimes be seen in our yards. If the yard is looking bad, life is getting hard to keep up with. In short, tall grass...tall troubles.

If someone says everything is fine, take a look at their yard. It's just a theory.