Labors of Love

LABORS OF LOVE

“I am planning on being an inventor when I grow up,” said my oldest grandson. “And a firefighter.” Keeping it the family, his younger brother concurred. “I’m being a firefighter, too.” This Nana has no doubt—in the coming years we’ll be well protected and also well supplied with much needed new inventions!

 

From an early age we are asked  “what we want to be when we grow up.” We seem to instinctively know that there will be a work life after we’re done being a kid and we answer the question with occupations we know about, like nurse or doctor or teacher or firefighter.

 

What we don’t know is the labor that will be involved in our future occupation (or even in the amount of work it will take to educate ourselves in order to get to do the job we want to have). As we get older we hope that whatever we will “be” will be something we like to do and something we are really good at doing. For as Aristotle once said, “Pleasure in the job puts perfection in the work.” The Bible agrees: “So I saw that there is nothing better for a person than to enjoy their work because that is their lot.” (Ecclesiastes 3:22)

 

Work is celebrated in the United States the first Monday in September. Known as “Labor Day,” it was first commemorated on a Tuesday—September 5, 1882 in New York City and was created by the labor movement to honor the social and economic achievements of American workers. On June 28, 1894 the US Congress officially adopted the day, making each first September Monday a legal holiday.

 

Originally, Labor Day was to include parades, festivals and speeches, all exhibiting the strength and value of labor organizations. Much of this still occurs, but just as often it is now known as the “last hurrah of summer,” a time when families head out of town one more time before school starts or enjoy a final summertime picnic or party.

 

However Labor Day is celebrated, it’s great when our work is celebrated each and every day we labor, for when we have chosen a job we love, “we never have to work a day in (our) life.” (Confucius). And loving our job has a lot to do with our attitude—whether we try hard, toil hard—and appreciate much.

 

The Apostle Paul gave us all good advice when he wrote, “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters.” (Colossians 3:23) Labor on!

 

 

Recently a good friend fell down in a public place and I feared she was quite embarrassed (though bumped and bruised, she was OK). In an effort to assure her that many of us have this malady, I share a piece here that I wrote many years ago. Sadly, not much has changed - while on a walk a few weeks ago I was splayed out on the sidewalk near my home, having tripped over a...a...well, OK, over not much of anything. Enjoy, even if you're not my daughters.

COMEDY CENTRAL, MOM-STYLE

Moshe Waldoks (Who? I don’t really know who he might be but I do know he was right about one thing) said “A sense of humor can help you overlook the unattractive, tolerate the unpleasant, cope with the unexpected and smile through the unbearable.” Unfortunately, there are a lot of us like the folks author/speaker Garrison Keillor describes: “God writes a lot of comedy…the trouble is, He’s stuck with so many bad actors who don’t know how to play funny.”

That would be me. My husband has often said I do not have a sense of humor. (I actually suspect it’s just that I do not have his!) But it is true I have a little difficulty laughing at life’s ups and downs – especially my downs, my falling downs, in particular.

No, I do not have an inner ear problem or weak ankles or anything of that nature. Objects simply appear in my path that were not part of my plan. And that proves to be a bit of comic relief for my daughters.

After I tipped over onto the floor in a local Walmart aisle while trying to see some bottom shelf prices (40-somethings just can’t squat like they used to), tripped over a mop handle while working at McDonald’s and fell into a (really!) well-concealed hole on Sea World’s lawn my girls were so concerned. “Did anyone see you?” they gasped. At least I think that’s what they said. It was quite hard to tell amidst all the giggling.

Mom, the “techno queen,” is also a good source for a laugh. The daughters won’t even let me near the VCR remotes anymore. (Why are remotes all different anyway – is there a Nobel Prize for electronic creativity?) Eyeballs roll as I frantically attempt to push the “pause” while the TV characters run on in fast forward. And the rewind button? Much too close to the “stop.” Well, maybe I like watching the same part of the tape over and over again, did they ever think of that?

Want a good picker-upper? Try watching me find my car in a parking lot. I have been known to insert my key in the door of my car, all the while wondering what all that baby stuff was doing in my back seat (it’s been a long time since we had a baby, mind you). And that startled man waiting for his wife at Target’s door? He must have been quite perplexed when an unknown-to-him female entered his van calling him “Bob” while three young ladies stood by, doubled over with glee.

We won’t even go into my “ability” to distinguish the difference between the men’s and women’s public restrooms. (You know, really, the lines at the women’s lavatories are always so long, anyway.)

All this used to upset me. Part of me did know it really was amusing, but I just could not laugh at it. I was annoyed that others were “laughing at me.” (But, come on – how could they help it?) I didn’t know how to “play funny.” Slowly I am learning to not take everything quite so seriously, remembering the Proverb “a happy heart makes the face cheerful” and that “a cheerful heart has a continual feast.” At this rate, I’ll have no trouble providing a perpetual family banquet!

Looking for Wonder

I wasn't even aware of the wonder just outside my own window.

When the phone rang that morning I was somewhere between sleep and awake, but not yet out of bed. My son-in-law was calling to let me know there was a big buck in our yard. He knew I'd think that was a thing to behold, and he was right.

Drowsy horizontal quickly turned into groggy upright and I searched the recesses of my sluggish brain to see if somewhere information regarding the whereabouts of my camera might be retrievable. Aha - the desk! By the time I removed the lens cap and slowly eased up the shade, my early visitor and his two lady friends had made it across the street, ambling ever so slowly, gracefully across the field. I got off a couple shots through the window and then carefully, ever so carefully eased open the front door to watch the beautiful creatures.

I saw a car make its way down the street and I wondered if the driver would see what I saw. He did. The 3 deer saw him, too, as they became instantly alert. But not overly alarmed, apparently, as they continued their morning munching, satisfied that no harm was imminent. Inspired by that, I grabbed my keys and jumped in my car with the hopes of obtaining a couple more close-up shots of their soulful chocolate eyes, his velvet antlers. Mister lifted his head to me as if to say, "Are you just looking?" Satisfied,  he let me look my fill and I marveled at what God had made.

I wonder how often we miss the wonder. Sometimes, as in this instance with my deer friends, we don't even know it's there. But other times, we see it so much we fail to see it. The blues and greys in the sky above, the wispy cloud fingers. My friend's quick smile. The multitudes of green in the landscape. The sparkle of diamonds in my grandson's eye.

There's a Third Day song that goes like this:

“Lord of all creation
Of water, earth, and sky
The heavens are Your tabernacle
Glory to the Lord on High.

God of wonders, beyond our galaxy
You are holy, holy
The universe declares Your majesty
You are holy, holy
Lord of heaven and earth.”

I'm grateful for unexpected wonders like my trio of early callers that morning. You can be sure I'll be on the watch for them again. I am greedy for more. But the thing is - all manner of more is all around me. I need only to look, really look. Look, and give thanks to the God of all wonders.

"Many, O LORD my God, are the wonders you have done. The things you planned for us no one can recount to you; were I to speak and tell of them, they would be too many to declare."  Psalm 40:5 (NIV)

The Grandest Grand Finale

Thanks, China. Who knew, back in the 7th century, that the Chinese would invent something that my family would love every 3rd and 4th of July: fireworks!

When I was a kid, it was the night of the fourth. Mom and dad would pack up their brood of four, add in some popcorn to the mix, and drive down by the river to enjoy - admittedly at a v...e...r...y slow pace - our town's holiday fireworks show. Each...shot...seemed...to...go...off...in...SLOW...motion, and we about fell asleep between each little kaboom, but it was what we had and we didn't know the difference anyway. And that finale - 3 shots in a row - woo hoo!!

When we moved to the Milwaukee area the 4th's display was on the 3rd and MUCH more of a big deal. We weren't among the diehards who went down to the Lakefront on the 2nd, staking out their camping spots in pyrotechnic anticipation. But we did pack a picnic supper and hoof it on down from a mile-away parking spot to a good watching spot late afternoon of the 3rd. (Weird!) people watching was a great way to while away the hours till show time. Worth the wait though, as that whiz bang grand display, grand finale kept our eyes popping and ears ringing long after the long trek back to the car.

Last night we chose to view a local show from the cool comfort of our car. Traditional reds and blues shimmered and sparkled up the night sky and each festive shot was followed by the query of a tiny voice, "Was that the grand finale?" "No, not yet. Soon." was the answer. Question: "Grand finale?" Answer: "No, not yet. Soon." And again. And again. And then: BOOM! BOOM! FLASH! FLASH! It WAS the grand finale and nobody needed to ask if that was it, not even the tiny voice.

Another grand finale, the grandest of the grands, is coming and there will be no doubt, no question about it when it happens. When Jesus Christ returns to this earth it will be known by everyone on earth. "And then at last, the sign that the Son of Man is coming will appear in the heavens, and there will be deep mourning among all the peoples of the earth. And they will see the Son of Man coming on the clouds of heaven with power and great glory." Matthew 24:30 (NLT)

For hundreds of years people have thought the time was near. It appears now that it's near. But the exact time is not given us to know. We just know that it's near. That He's near. And we will not miss it: "For the Lord himself will come down from heaven, with a loud command, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet call of God..." No, ifs, ands or buts. No more "soon." No more questions. And the most fantastic of grand finales ever.
　
　
　
　

An "Oldie but Goodie" for an "Oldie but Goodie"

June 20, 2002

Dear Dad,

On Father’s Day Pastor Chip told us his son, Ben, reminded him he needed to write a letter to his father, like he had done to his mom on Mother’s Day. Pastor said the same applied to us, and he was right.

I’m sure you’ve heard this famous Mark Twain quote: “When I was a boy of fourteen, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around. But when I got to be twenty-one, I was astonished at how much the old man had learned.”

It’s really quite amazing how much you have in common with Mark Twain’s father. You have gotten so much smarter and wiser than you were when I was a kid! It’s equally amazing to come to the understanding that you were always so, and this letter is to tell you exactly that.

There are many reasons why I’m grateful for you, among them:

●How industrious you always were, always working, always finishing what you started; we always knew our Dad could fix anything!

●How hard you worked, being willing to take a second job to provide for your family; how you cared for what you had and taught your children the same; how important it was not to waste what you were given (although why you and Mom insisted on even eating burned cookies – so as to not let them “go to waste” – is beyond me!)

●How patient you were, whether it was teaching a kid to drive a car or waiting for him or her to come to his or her senses!

●How you loved our mother, your kids, your country – and every furry friend whose wagging tail ever switched across your path!

Thanks, Dad. You are a great one!

Love, Barb

If there ever was a father

Who loved his daughters more

I haven’t heard of him

In all the father lore!

It is quite true that he

Never liked those messy pants

And there were the occasional

Endless wordy rants!

But this man worked so hard

To provide for his girls three

Making sure life was good

For his babies and for me!

From driving trips to all

Four corners of our land,

Baseball games and eating out

This dad was (is!) really grand!

He loves his Lord as well

And shows that love each day

As he serves and shares and gives

Trusting God for come what may.

He’s put his family first

Helping each one as they need

And never have I seen

Even a bit of selfish greed.

And so, this Father’s Day

We honor this dear man –

Bob Larson, we love you

And we’re each your biggest fan!

"Yay God! And Maybe Dad Needs a Fanny Pack!"

A woman had 10 silver coins. Maybe it was her dowry, maybe it was her family’s life savings. When she realized she had lost one of the valuable coins she turned the house upside down, sweeping and looking under ever pillow and doily until she found it. And when she did, she called all her friends and neighbors together and joyfully said to them, “Rejoice with me!  I have found my coin! “

A man had 100 sheep and one wandered off. He left the 99 and searched high and low until he located the poor lost lamb. He put it on his shoulders and with lighthearted steps made his way back home. He proclaimed to all his friends and neighbors: “Rejoice with me! I have found my lost sheep!”

Another man had a habit of misplacing his wallet. And his organizer book. He would accidentally leave one of them in a restaurant or someplace where he was absolutely sure it wasn’t. Today was one of those days. He and his wife searched the house, on shelves high and low, behind tables, under the couch. He was positive he didn’t leave it at the restaurant where they’d had breakfast, but regardless, they couldn’t check because it was a breakfast/lunch kind of place and by the time he realized the wallet was missing it was the dinner hour and the restaurant was closed. They went to the parking lot and looked, just in case.

The man was “positive” the wallet must be in his daughter’s backyard where he’d been playing fetch with the dog, and that it had somehow fallen out of his pocket. His daughter checked and no, it was not there (the possibility was considered that the wallet might have, indeed fallen out, become a chew-toy and was therefore now in myriad tiny pieces throughout the grass, but no evidence existed to prove that theory).

The man thought perhaps the wallet had popped out of his pocket onto the ground out by the riverside fishing spot, where he and his wife had earlier been looking for driftwood, so they trekked back on out there and searched. Nope, no sir-ee, no wallet. Another possibility: perhaps some kind, honest soul had found it and turned it in? Or might still yet turn it in? Off to the police station to file a missing wallet report. And the wallet was still missing.

Amazing how much praying one does when something important is lost. How much pleading. And even begging. A lost wallet can turn one’s life upside down, and inside out.  A lost wallet means cancelling credit cards. Getting a new driver’s license. Missing cash. And worst of all in this day and age –it could mean  identity theft. And the husband prayed. And the wife prayed. And the wife called the daughter to request prayer. And the wife called the other two daughters to ask for prayer, not only for the return of the wallet but for peace of mind for the man.

After all the searching hither and yon, the man and his wife returned home once more to look in all the previously looked-in, looked-at places. Maybe, just maybe the wallet would  “appear” out of a hat, like a magician’s rabbit.

It was through no magician’s “sorcery,” but the wife did, indeed, find the wallet, in a spot the man had never before put it. And if that particular spot had been checked already, she couldn’t say. But what she can say is that what was lost was found. Anxiety was replaced with relief. And joy.  And they are calling all their family and friends together to say, “Rejoice with me! What was lost is found!” Praise God. He cares unbelievably much about lost things. And a daughter said, "Yay, God! (Maybe Dad needs a fanny pack!!)"

“I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent.”  Luke 15:7