The Yin to My Yang

“Gardening is stupid.”


Yes, that is a direct quote. From my husband. On a cold Saturday morning while shivering in a mercilessly shaded front yard with muddy knees, frozen fingers, and a sore back.


My cheery grin, chipper attitude, and frequent wisecracks did nothing to alleviate his stubborn suffering.


So I grinned and just kept pulling weeds.


By mid-morning and after a cup of coffee, a thirty-minute break, and a little more sunshine spilling over the house, he had cheered up a bit. But he was still adamant that if I ever want to take up gardening, I can teach our future kids, but leave him out of it!


As part of our fundraising efforts for our upcoming mission trip to Honduras (May 18-25, super excited!) we toiled on hands and knees in muddy flowerbeds, rescued ungrateful rosebushes that were being smothered by dead leaves, cleaned and organized cluttered garages, Craig’s-listed old appliances, hand-painted and sold unique gift items, and tackled a variety of other household tasks and craft projects.


Through our hard work and the generosity of friends, family and strangers (which all just adds up to God’s providence) we met our goal well in advance of our deadline! Whew!


During the process, Geoff and I were vividly reminded of the differences in our personalities. As he likes to say, I’m the yin to his yang.




You see, when the going gets tough, Geoff gets grumpy, and I get chipper.


Now don’t get me wrong, my husband is one of the toughest people I know, and he can persevere through any degree of pain, discomfort or adversity to reach the goal. But he might not be very happy about it.


I, on the other hand, tend to become strangely and ridiculously optimistic and lighthearted when circumstances aren’t particularly pleasant. Downright chipper. Annoyingly so.


Like that one time, when we were towing a borrowed boat with a borrowed truck back to the rightful owners and our three-hour drive became seven. Pieces of the boat kept blowing off in the wind and cartwheeling down the middle of the highway to be retrieved – nice and scuffed up – and tied down for a second try.


Then there was the blowout on the boat trailer. No spare. Wrong-sized tire wrench in the truck. No one would stop to help us. Nearby farms welcomed us with padlocked gates and dark windows.


Finally, hours later, after a Good Samaritan with the right-sized tire wrench finally took pity on us, a 140-mile round-trip to Wal-Mart, purchasing what happened to be the most expensive tire they had for sale, and finally getting the jack to work, we were on our way again. Tired. Sunburned. Ready to be home.


And Geoff was grumpy (for some reason). And I was chipper.


Why so different?


Well, yin and yang I guess. But mostly, God knew what he was doing when He put us together 🙂