Reflections on manual labor

There are still some bits of green paint on my toenails as I sit here pondering my Saturday (I like to do things barefoot), but I've mostly recovered from the day. I have no doubts, though, that I will sleep well tonight.

This morning, I joined with other people from my church to give our building a spring make-over/fix-up. Specifically, I worked with some other girls to transform a black and gray office into a green nursery for the church babies. We had a good time listening to music and chatting while we taped, painted and painted some more. While waiting for the nursery to dry, we also gave the bathroom some love (as per our instructions)--it's now much more cheerful, and we are toying with the idea of having the put their handprints on the walls. All the paint we used was mixed by hand, thus necessitating us to name the colors. Continuing with our Sunday School theme, we went with the super-cheesy names of Palm Sunday Green, Let There Be Light Yellow and Walking on Water Blue.

There is something very satisfying about walking away from a room and actually being able to see the results of your hard work. As much as I enjoy my job, I don't see many results at the end of the day. Today, though, I could noticeably see what my hands had done. I'm about to go to sleep, and it will feel good to fall into bed tired, yes, but knowing that I was productive with my work, doing it with all my might, as Ecclesiastes 9:10 says.

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