Same Job, Different Day.

 Same Job, Different Day.

 

Long years ago, it seemed like every woman did her laundry on Monday. Mother even had some cup towels (tea towels) that were embroidered with the tasks of the week—with Monday being laundry day. Right off hand, could not tell you what the other days had embroidered on them, but remember Monday distinctly. Well, Jennifer does all her laundry on Sunday each week. My mom did hers either on Friday or Saturday when Sterling was there to help her dump out the water after she finished. This old woman is so blessed to have the automatic washer and dryer to use. No real work involved like it used to be. Just take them out of the dryer and fold things and put them away.

 

My parents took us to church when we were children, so Sunday was not a workday. But not everyone took Sunday off. The gas stations and the one little store we had in town stayed open so folks could pick up what they needed. But the Post Office was closed up on Sundays. Got to thinking about that. Of course, people used to send real letters to others. But on that one day, we did not get any mail. Think it is pretty much still that way for the postal service, but Amazon still has the USPS deliver packages on Sundays. Have you ever thought about the work we did in the past compared to today? No one embroiders their tea towels any longer (at least to my knowledge). But each of us has a habit of doing things a certain way at certain times.

 

What jobs do you have picked out for a designated day? Or have the days and weeks pretty much blended together in your mind? It seems to me that it is difficult to remember which day of the week it may be sometimes. The trash pickup days matter, but for the most part, one day is about like another. But then, the jobs are about like that, too. In a bit, the dryer will have to be emptied, and those clothes folded and put away. Same job each week with just a difference in the type of clothes depending on the season—that is the same job, different day.

 

Thinking about our jobs reminds me that not much is different for any of us. We all face the same types of chores or the same disappointments, the same problems in one way or another are common to most of us. We used to laugh at the old ladies at their club meetings when they discussed their gall bladder operations or the husband’s hernia repair. What was likely to happen to one generally happened to most of them. While the operations have changed drastically, the problems were met with prayers for healing and fast recovery—and maybe a casserole for a neighbor who was down for a day or two.

 

Today Sterling was griping about the height of the grass and weeds that have to be brush hogged down on the farm—and the dadblamed mosquitoes! And he had a flat on his tractor and the screen on the front of the radiator had to be blown out because of all the fuzz and stuff that collects and makes the tractor run hot. Then he paused his griping and said this: We are SO blessed to have the tools we have and what it takes to get the work done.

 

Remember to count your blessings when you face another job—whatever day it may be.

 

Rest well, my friends. You are loved.