The Vanity of Work

From the rising of the sun to its setting

I love to watch
myself work.

Mankind’s work is never done.

An irritant named vanity

Triggering strife instead of sanity

in us all.

Nature lacking in originality

Only a repeating of times past

With no evidence of  new beginnings.

From ancient times til now our work is set before us.   

And when it’s done, it is forgotten

     With no reminder

     For the generation yet to come.

For there is nothing new under the sun

Except the freshness of our faith.

For by His favor filling in what’s lacking and

Ordering the crooked path made straight.

The buck’s work stops here.

For there is nothing better than to eat and drink and enjoy the gift of work

To see it as the prize.

For God gives wisdom, knowledge and joy to both the sinner and the saint

But only those who lift their hands in thanks

Can perceive the goodness of the moment

     Reaching up with opened hands

     And in satisfaction then give back.

For there is a time for everything

Never miss nap time.

All purposes and in all actions

A season to plant and then to harvest

A time to weep and a time to laugh

A moment for silence and a period to speak

A degree of hate and converse to love.

Acknowledging

That He has made all things beautiful in its time.

But one thing is certain that God’s plan is forever.

And nothing can be added to it nor subtracted.

His joy not momentary but infinite for all ages.

It is better to seek quietness over clamor

 A handful over ­­­­­­­­­­­­­greed

For one remains steady in satisfaction

While the other’s toil is blown away and

Left empty grasping after the wind.

Cutting the grass
one blade at a time.

The end of a thing is always better than its beginning

The patient triumphing over the proud.

For in the beginning God saw all of creation as good

And every job as worthy to be done.

For in His goodness, all vanity is removed

    with one simple word of thank you.

Who can see the joy in prosperity and adversity alike

The simplistic and mundane

and apply one’s heart to go beyond the moment

And shoulder the hardness of the day.                                                   

Then pause quietly for Reason to show its hidden head

 Stretched beyond the futility of the daily grind.

Reaching until you feel the certainty of His opened hand

Extended

For the race is not awarded to the swiftest

Wait. Let me help
with the last word.

For the battle is not to the strong

Nor favor to the men of skill

But time and chance happen to them all

So, dig down deep into that treasure

To the gold that shines for all

To grasp,

 To touch the understanding

And good sense sent to all.

The paper work is never done.

For in the end there is a day of ruling

A silence that sweeps across the earth

As God reveals Himself complete

And weights the labor of mankind’s good work

Bringing its duty into judgment

With every secret intent revealed.

And line them up with His commandments

And appraises each work as the gold or rubbish that it is.

Happy Labor Day *

By Kathy and David Benedetto, storyteller, and editor

Based on the book of Ecclesiastes a source of wisdom for us all.  

And a special thanks to our animals with jobs.

  • (A holiday established in 1894 by Congress In wake of a massive unrest and to repair ties with the American worker.   On June 28, 1894, President Grover Cleveland signed it into law.

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