No Time Off Down On the Farm

On my way to work this morning I called my brother, Larry, to find out what is going on at the family farm. It was one of those moments when, as soon as he spoke, I knew he had a cold. You could almost hear and see the sinus' dripping through the cell connections and he sounded horribly stuffed up . . . and he was walking towards the shop as he talked with me: They are working on the planter today. Rain, sleet, snow, burning sunshine, foggy mornings, there is always something to be done on the farm and rarely, rarely, is there time for sickness of any kind.

This is the mindset into which I grew up on our family dairy farm: No matter how you feel, the cows still have to be milked, the heifers and calves have to be fed, the chores need to be completed and, oh if that isn't enough during this time of the year, there are always fences to be fixed, trees to be trimmed in the pasture, equipment needing repair before Spring and book work to be done to facilitate everything else. Dad seldom ever stayed in the house because of illness, because the farm never quits, so there was little understanding given to we boys as illness visited our lives along the way. Much like the old hymn written by Anna L. Coghill in 1854, work on the Wagner dairy farm was continuous, though never an end in itself, still it required your all here on earth for the day is coming when humanity's work is done: 

"Work, for the night is coming,

Work through the morning hours;

Work while the dew is sparkling,

Work ’mid springing flow’rs.

Work when the day grows brighter,

Work in the glowing sun;

Work, for the night is coming,

When man’s work is done.

It took my new bride, Nancy, a long time to get used to that idea when first we dated, then were married. In most vocations you have sick time to allow yourself an opportunity to get better before returning to work, but on the farm you are on a whole different clock and set of expectations. The same can probably be said of most self-employed people: The only way the work gets done is to stay with it, regardless how you feel. There are very few others who can do your job just as you would and, in our case, the cows can't wait. And vacations? Well, don't get me started.

So, how does God do it? If we are made in the image of God, and I believe we are, does God ever get a cold? Sick? Or just sick and tired of us? Is God considered to be 'self-employed'? And, if so, how does God manage external expectations and need? Is this the point where we are to look to the Creation Story and glean from it that the Seventh Day is created as holy and we are to rest on that day? And, if so, who milks the cows, feeds the calves and heifers, and makes sure the chores are done on that day?

Okay, so maybe this is a bit over the edge, but the premise remains: How does God do it? Could it be that this is the very answer Jesus gives us when He wanders off from the disciples to a mountainside apart and prays? Is this why Jesus can sleep on a storm-tossed boat? Or find consolation and peace walking quietly along the road?

Perhaps our cues today are being taken more from the demands of culture than from possibilities in faith, but when you are raised in a culture of faith which requires and values 'work' over rest, then the outcome is already predetermined. "Work, for the night is coming, Work through the morning hours . . ."

I am praying for Larry and for all who are having to 'work' through their illnesses. Believe me, Larry, the planter will be there tomorrow, but will you, if you don't take care of yourself? Blessed art thou among God's people. Please, take care of yourself because, in the end, there is only one of you - and the work will always be here, just as it always has been. Balancing your need to keep going, to earn an income to survive, to afford medical benefits, to put food on the table, to take care of your family, and to simply accomplish that which needs to be done . . . is not easy. Neither is lying on your back in a hospital because you didn't take the time at home to allow your body to heal when most it needed time away. Maybe there needs to be one more stanza added to the hymn:

'Rest while the body's aching,

Rest while the fever's up;

Rest while your head is pounding,

Rest, your nose is clogged.

Rest when the eyes won't open,

Rest when your pulse is high,

Rest for the day is coming,

When rest is all that's left.

Something to ponder in our work-a-day world, from one workaholic to another.

(c)dcw2020