Slackers, Boulders, and Chickens

I have always loved the Barnts family. I've been blessed to have Lizzie and now Katherine in my small group, and today I enjoyed spending time with them and Barbara (yay Barbara!) in some sweet fellowship working with clay, rocks, a Kubota, and rakes. Over and above liking all the Barnts, I've also appreciated their work ethic and soft hearts. (By the way, Sarah, Katherine, and Lizzie could put some of our wussy One28 "I don't want to carry the chairs" boys to shame! Those girls are tough! And they can drive a tractor!). I've wondered, how is it that all these children are such hard workers? How are people taught the value of sheer hard labor? As Mr. Barnts and I were raking some rocks into the Kubota, he said, "you work hard - must have been all those years on the farm, right?" And I thought, right. That is what it was.

Where has this gone? I was pondering that on the drive home as I tried to stay awake. I think a big reason is living in the city, with no land, being bored, and never feeling the "there is always something to be done around here." Perhaps this, paired with highly disfunctional families who can't talk together, nevertheless work or eat together, has created a mass of slothful slackers who meander about shopping malls and whine when their foolishness meets with bad grades in my class.

Then I considered, maybe the work-ethic has simply been redirected, in many cases, into sports. I thought - this could be a good thing. There are many sports players out there who, growing up in the city, have funneled their energy and determination into training and are typically rewarded for it.

But there is the difference. Sports fuel your work-ethic because they offer prizes - incentives. They happily wave the carrots of winning, success, scholarships, prestige, "coolness," fancy cars, maybe a pro-contract, and attention from the opposite sex. The list goes on and on - and it's pretty sweet.

What is the profit in raking leaves, or cleaning horse stalls, or taking wheelbarrow after wheelbarrow of dirt from the side of a hill to a dip in your pasture? What is the reward for cleaning bunny cages, feeding chickens before the sun is up, stacking hay bales, or creating rock walls? There is no illustrious, material prize for these actions - but there is greater worth. Accomplishment. Enjoying the process. Serving your family. Working together for survival, food, shelter, and improvement.

I wish more kids had property to grow up on and endless projects. I wish they all learned to care for animals and grow in the responsibility that another being is dependent on you. The consequences to not feeding a horse or leaving the gate open are far worse than failing to look at a syllabus or do the dishes. I wish every one of my girls had blisters on their hands, some muscles born of work instead of the gym, and a grim determination to push on when it's no longer fun or comfortable - just because. Just because God called us to do all things our very best and to His glory - even raking clay mounds out of the Barnts' future front lawn. When it comes down to it, the rewards are far richer when a family and small group are built through selfess service than when a team comes together to win the State championship. You wouldn't know it by what our World values, but you would certainly know it from the example set by our Savior.