I was out for a walk with my dog early this morning. I really enjoy my neighbourhood on a Saturday morning. Everyone is relaxed and most are puttering around in the yard, assessing the work that needs to be done while drinking their morning coffee. So it is quiet, friendly, and , on this Saturday morning, warm.
As I was passing in front of one home I saw that the family who lived there was already busy at work. They were speaking a slovik language to each other so I figured the parents were first generation immigrants. They were working together.
Dad was pushing the mower and giving directions to the young children. The children, about five and six years old, were gladly running around the front yard and moving things as per their father's instructions. Mom was busy weeding the flower bed while keeping an eye on the children. It was good to see.
I remembered when my older children lived at home how much they would help in and out of the house. Sometimes they didn't want to but eventually we were all hard at work, mowing, weeding and raking. They were especially helpful when we had a forty apple tree orchard. There was always plenty to do. But somewhere along the way that attitude didn't continue down to the rest of the children.
At some point it just became easier and more convenient to do things myself, without help. It was faster and more efficient, sure, but something very important got lost along the way. It isn't just the training that the children need but the relationship that gets built.
One of my clearest memories with my dad was when the well pump burnt out and he had to replace it. There were only two problems he had to overcome. The pump was 400 feet down and it was January. So my dad enlisted my help and we went out in the middle of winter and pulled up four hundred feet of piping to get to the pump. I did not want to be there but I learned what price had to be paid to protect the family.
Another memory was when my dad had to go into a septic tank because something had stopped working. I appreciated my dad on that day. My job was to hold a flashlight and to keep talking to my dad. If he stopped talking I was to go get help. That's pretty important when you are only thirteen years old. That was one smelly day. I won't forget the sight of my dad coming up out of that hole, gasping for clean air while gagging. But I learned a lot about my dad on those two occasions. My dad was a "get 'er done" sort of guy.
When it comes to work, our Father does the same thing. He didn't need to build his plan around us, to include us with him. He could have handled all this work on his own. He did not have to make us co-workers with Jesus, but he did. And he did it for a reason. He wants us to know him intimately. He wants us to know how he thinks, feels, and what is important to him. There is no better way to know him then by working along side him. It's important.
As for me, it's time for me to re-evaluate my "To Do" list to see who I "need" to help with a few projects.
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