A DAYS WORK

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It was like old times… well not exactly old times, but it had the same feel. There was sweat, a little blood, there was straining, and always plenty of danger. I’d worked with my brother when we were young. He taught me the basics. Mostly he helped pass down a family tradition.

That tradition was to work hard, expect great things, and be gratified by a hard days work. Though our lives have changed, the circumstances allowed for a reunion of sorts. Somewhere around a twenty-year reunion.

My mind flashed back in time… It was late on a Friday afternoon. I’d driven three hours to where my brother lives to help him build his new home. As I pulled up in front of his new home under construction, there he was upstairs, doing what we all learned to do; work hard.

The smile on his face said it all. He knew it would be a weekend of hard work, plenty of gratification, and memories to last us the rest of our lives. As I was getting out of my car it started, the fun I mean… “What took you so long”! my brother yelled down to me with a big grin on his face.

I smiled as I jumped both feet into the sarcastic barbs we so affectionately threw, “What”?! – “I gotta come bail you out or what”?!!! I yelled back up. “I guess”! – “Somebody’s got to”!!! We worked till dark, just like we always did.

The next day we started before daybreak. Our oldest brother showed up to fill the short man roster. We yelled, sang, teased, strained, moved, lifted, cut, nailed, sweat and gave a small piece of our bodies while risking personal danger to build our brother’s new home.

Our brother would go on to raise all five of his kids in that house that he and his wife still call home. I thought of the times we worked in the wind, rain, snow, and mostly extreme desert heat long past the hours in a day for normal people.

I recall the difficult financial times that caused us to travel for work, live like hobos, trying to conserve money for family and bills. I remember arguing like typical brothers, but I can’t forget the example of a God disciplined life of our middle brother.

As my brother pulled up after a six-hour drive with part of his family, it started. Just like it did over twenty years ago, we didn’t miss a beat. “What took you so long”?! I asked grinning. My brother smiled.

We started just after the sun was up on Saturday. By that night past dinner time we sat back and admired the work of a long day. Work is a blessing, being productive is a gift. That’s the way God always intended it.

Adam’s gift was to work. When the world was still perfect, his God-given job was to work. It was only after the fall that the work would include weeds and sweat.

I can’t think of too many things better than a loved one saying, “Thank you, I really appreciate your help.” For those like my brothers and me, the honest answer is always, “That was fun”! Just like when we were kids…

Yep, fun… Yeah, that’s what it is…

A gift from God…