SWEAT and Labor Day

#1771

"Then I looked on all the works that my hands had wrought, and on the labor that I had labored to do: and, behold, all was vanity and vexation of spirit, and there was no profit under the sun." Ecclesiastes (2:11)

        "Man plans, God laughs." There is not a maverick molecule in the universe. "God is boss." He is in charge of everything, every element, every virus, every act of nature, the fall of every bird, the drawer of every soul, "rebirthed" in Him.

        The most difficult thoughts of my long life, the "why's" of human existence... the un-evened field of life's battles. Every time I have considered my own sightless-ness, thought of the pain and the grief so many tender-innocent hearts have had to bare. (People not being able to understand what has happened to them.) The grief of death, afflictions of small children, the fact that the greatest cause of death on Earth is abortion. I can well understand why the agnostic trembles in an effort to understand.

        I have written many times about my boyhood life, the poverty of the farm. 80 years ago when I was a child, there were few conveniences to life. The 50 percent of the population who now spend their life in indolence... mostly living off the work of others... own "lazy boys" watching trash from a talking box, having nothing to do with the very creator of the universe on whom they must depend for their next breath. Despising the very government that gives them their "ease" of life... worshiping this idols of addiction, popularity, political correctness, self gratification, having no desire to know what our ancestors have gone through just to give us this nation. They have no desire to know about less fortunate areas of the world, where human beings spend their entire life just striving for food and water. This writer, world traveler (passport stamped in 157 countries,) eight round the world trips, traveler to every continent, has seen deprived villages, destitute children who have never known the joys of a sweet piece of candy.

        On our farm, where my father-grandfather before me had worked, There was one very large field, many acres. I still remember the feeling of desperation-depression-despondency , when, with a two mule plow, I would start the process of turning over the soil for a new planting year. Behind this two mule plow, you would turn the soil about ten inches at the time.... round and round that huge field. After the land was turned over, then it was "leveled-graded" by large mule drawn equipment so that rows for planting could be established. It was endless hard work, crops in season, year after year, to eek out our meager existence. This was before the time of mechanized equipment. My grand parents had a large tractor, large metal heels with spikes, but tractors were not used for cultivation. I will never forget the sweat of my father, my brothers, the tenant farmers, as we endured. BUT, we are not stuck where we started. Hard work, frugal living, industrious study at a small school house (thirteen in my graduating class.) Me, my brothers, my cousins, all left this existence. Through the hard work of our ancestors, we left the sweat of the farm for responsible professions, God given blessings and yet, perhaps our greatest blessing... removing the toxins of life from our bodies through sweating: and yet, learning the HONOR of hard work: and yet, committed-convinced-controlled by the creator of the universe who knew what he wanted for us before the world was formed.

        In thinking of this great field, and the many other lesser fields, where the same work was involved, such is life. It seems impossible looking toward the future, but one day at a time, we just "plow on" and so quickly, the seasons are over, the harvest is in and we are ready for new beginnings.

        Many of the days, that great sun rose on this boy plowing mules. Now, 85 years later, hard work, frugal living, conservative life, I can watch the sun rise over the ocean from my beach house. Our fellow man, generally speaking, resents-hates those who achieve. I can not understand people who do not enjoy their job. The highways are full of men and women rushing home from a day of work... accomplished, satisfied in well doing. I truly believe that happiness is going to bed at night, tired from a days work, but anxious to get up and do it all over again tomorrow. God help our people and our nation that has sunk into the bottomless pit of laziness-indolence.