So, You're NOT Supposed to Compost in the Gutters?

Compost is one of those things I've always intended to do, but never took the time to look into how to get it going.  I know it's not as hard as I make it out to be in my mind.  I'm sure it is a great way to furtilize our lawns and shrubs.  I've heard that it is really good for the environment to compost.  I know that my lawn mower and leaf vac both mulch, making it even easier to collect and compost our lawn and garden debris rather than add to land fills.

Well, today, my family started cleaning out our gutters along the roof, especially under the tree which has become the bane of our existence, the live oak.  This huge tree is great for shade, but sheds all year, dumps an especially large amount in the spring, has acorns everywhere, tiny trees since the dogs ran off the squirrels, and has a special affinity for our gutters.  Our gutters under that tree fill within the week.  Once it rains, the leaves on the bottom get soft, and only the top ones dry.  So when we begin digging into the overflowing gutters, we discovered that we actually are composting.  All we needed to do is to toss some of the nitrogen-rich rotting leaves over our lawn, shrubs, and trees instead of dumping them into the paper lawn bags for disposal.  This is great! Along the east side of the house, I can just stand on a retaining wall and reach in for the stuff of life of our plants.  This will be easy.

By the way, are our gutters supposed to sag and slant away from the down spouts?  I ask because they do, and I was wondering if our unintentional composting was causing it.  The stuff doesn't just smell a lot, it also weighs a lot.  The damp wet is heavy with retained water (like me on the weekends).  And the straps holding the gutter to the roof are popping off the screws.  So, perhaps this isn't the best method of composting.  Just because I don't want to clean the gutters every week does not make composting in my gutters a good idea.  Just because I can pull out compost by the hand fulls just about whenever I please, does not make gutters the best place to store it.  Sure, I don't want to clean the gutters.  It's messy, smelly, and takes a long time.  It is somewhat like laundry because that stupid tree replaces all I pull out within the week, and then the rains ensure that the leaves both decompose and cause the gutters to sag.  The leaves alone negate any benefit the gutters may have provided in the first place.

It seems so futile t use the gutters under the tree for anything other than composting.  But is it always right to make the best (compost) of a bad situation (constantly clogged gutters)?  What if the consequences caused by the "lemonade" are worse than the lemons themselves?  Just because life hands me lemons, doesn't mean that I have enough sugar to make the lemons palatable.  So, while composting is good, perhaps avoiding keeping the gutters clean to compost in the gutters isn't so good.

It's odd how I apply this philosophy of making lemonade when life hands me lemons to other areas of my life.  I really like making lemonade, but sometimes I substitute things for the sugar that is probably not conducive to good tasting lemonade.  For instance, at work I have to call customers and sell them products and services.  My customers are mostly tax and accounting professionals, and as you may know, March 14 is well nigh in the middel of tax season.  You'd be amazed at how grumpy tax and accounting professionals get when you call them to sell them stuff while they have scads of complex and problematic stacks of tax forms around them.  You'd think they'd appreciate the break away from the pressure, but I guess not.  So, when I call (and they actually answer), I imediately feign shock, apologize for interrupting them, and then launch into my description of the discounts which they would miss if they waited until after tax season to purchase what they usually get anyway, only later in the year.  So, is this a good idea?  My boss doesn't really think so.  She would rather I be chipper talk to them as if this is the most natural thing in the world, to call during their busiest time of the year, when they have the fewest braincells to spare for thinking, to call and have them make a decision about what they will be doing in the summer, some three months away.  I like my method better.

But is it right to feign shock, when I would fully expect them to be working 60 hours plus each week?  Is it right to be pushing on them the things they may want, but might also tick them off so that they won't buy from us later?  They might and they might not, so that one is really not that valid.  But my tone works well.  I get fewer upset and angry responses than my teammates, so maybe it is right. 

What if I apply this concept to my life with God or ministry?  Is it right to make it possible to be less than totally comitted, taking the easier road (is that the wide road to distruction or the narrow road with fewer bumps to life? I can never tell the difference).  I doubt this is the position God wants of me.  I doubt he wants me making lemonade, or composting in my gutters.  I suspect that He wants me to take what is as it is, not as I would have it.  I suspect that He wants me to understand and accept that this sin-full world is just what one would expect from a sin-filled mass of humanity.  I suspect that God's example in Jesus was not one of making lemonade or composting in gutter, but rather taking the opportunities to further the Kingdom of His Father whenever His Father arranged those opportunities.  I suspect that Jesus was more about seeking to be where His Father led Him or wanted Him to be rather than wherever He wanted to be and hoped His Father would just bless Him where He was.  I suspect that obedience is supposed to be without reservations of dependence. 

I should stop composting in my gutters and simply do the work necessary to keep them clean.  I should take the lemons of life and use them as lemons, not seek to add splenda or aspertame to them to approximate lemonade.  I should take, as Jesus did, this sinful world as it is, not as I would have it (the full version of the serenity prayer by Reinhold Niebuhr).  The reality of my situation is that life hands me fewer lemons that I see in the laps of others.  My Master has enabled me many times over to be a help to those who seem to have too many.  I take my water with lemon, write secret notes with lemon, and even use them to pelt those who should not be performing on stage (they hurt more than rotten tomatoes).  Not really, I just take them as the sour fruit they are, and enjoy the variety of fruit my Master has used to populate this world.  So, I have removed the compost from my gutters, and I will again next weekend.