My father loved ice fishing, though he only participated in it as a young man, he talked of it often. He also loved ice skating. In my early teens, Dad decided one winter to make our garden area a skating rink. 

He purchased a large role of heavy plastic. Cleared the garden of trash. Shaped a berm around to hold the water in. Carefully rolled the plastic over the garden and the berm. I’m not sure how long the water ran to fill it up to six or eight inches. I couldn’t wait for it to freeze and invite my friends for a skating party.

We all waited with great anticipation. I think it was one of the few times in my life I prayed for very cold weather. Slowly it froze and we were nearing the day when it would be thick enough to skate. The excitement was building.

Then, in one brief hope crushing moment a gate had been left open. A handful of cows found freedom and off they went. Not down the lane. Not out to the road. Not to the open field in back, but straight across the driveway through my grandparent’s yard, through the trees and right into the skating rink. The weight of their hooves poked holes in the ice and in the plastic beneath. Yes, you guessed it, all the water drained and the ice collapsed along with all our hopes and dreams.

I still look back and there’s a twinge in my heart for all the work and anticipation my father had put into the project. An open gate, 5 cows, and 2 minutes and all was finished. 

Just this past week something came my way that reminded me of this story. It brought to my memory the loss of “what might have been if only…” You know those times when the actions of another or even your own actions take away what might have been. Something you had hoped for, dreamed of, looked forward to and then it’s all gone.

I have no recollection of when Dad rolled the plastic up and smoothed the berms out in the garden. I just know that I came home one day from school and it was finished. Cleaned up like it had never happened. I don’t know what Dad felt, but I was bummed. 

The older I get, the more I realize life is filled with open gates.

A job opportunity disappears. A friendship changes. A relationship ends. A business idea never gets off the ground. A dream we carefully nurtured suddenly drains away because of circumstances beyond our control—or sometimes because of our own mistakes.

And if we’re honest, some of those losses still sting years later.

Perhaps that is why this old memory returned to me. Not because of a skating rink, but because of what my father did next. He accepted what was. The cows weren’t going to put the water back. Wishing things had happened differently wouldn’t restore the ice. So he simply cleaned up the mess and turned his attention toward the next season.

There is wisdom in that.

Some dreams are fulfilled. Others are not. Some gates remain closed no matter how hard we push. Yet life continues to unfold before us. We can spend our days staring at the empty rink, mourning what might have been, or we can trust that God is still writing the story.

I suspect all of us carry memories of a few broken skating rinks. Places where we had hoped for one thing and received another. But perhaps faith is believing that even when a gate is left open and the plans fall apart, God has not abandoned the garden.

The rink was lost.

The garden remained.

And when spring came, something new would grow there.

I know that summer I enjoyed sweet corn, tomatoes, potatoes, onions, cucumbers, squash, radishes and much more. All from the same spot of disappointment a few months earlier.

The steps of a man are established by the LORD, when he delights in his way; 24 though he fall, he shall not be cast headlong, for the LORD upholds his hand. Psalms 37:23-24 (ESV) 

Grace and peace,

Jarvis—From Soil To Soul