What Its Worth

I can remember my dad coming in from a long, hard day's work
his hands all calloused and cracked, rough and hardened by working as a concrete man.
As a kid, I would stare at his hands and wonder why his were so different from mine.
Not just the size of them, although his were huge...
But the way mine were unwrinkled, uncalloused, not cracked and mostly soft, while his felt almost like they were made out of hardened clay.
I can remember his skin being so tanned and reddened by the sun, he looked like a giant freshly baked gingerbread man.
But I digress...
here's the actual story.

I can remember working a few times for my dad's home owned concrete business.
As a kid, I thought it would be fun to work some "real work" outside with my dad.
Little did I know what lay in store for me...
I found that though I liked the way the tools looked, they were more difficult for me to use than I thought.
Dad could lift a shovel full of huge pieces of broken up concrete and toss it aside like it was mere sand.
I tried to do the same, but when I'd fill up my shovel, I couldn't lift it.
So I had to scoop about four times more often just to achieve his same effect of a single shovelful.
The grubbing hoe was one mighty looking tool, but in my small hands, it would only yield so much result.
I picked and hoed and shovelled all afternoon long, trying to make my corners as square and deep as my dad's.
But try as I might, I could never seem to get my end looking quite right.
He would just smile and say, "You're doing a pretty good job for a kid."
Then he would come over to my side and even it up and fix it in a matter of about five minutes, much to my chagrin.
I would work until my muscles burned and I could hardly feel my arms anymore.
And he would be fresh as a daisy, not even breaking a sweat.
He'd stop a minute grab a drink of water, then stand there watching me work at it like a dog and just grin.
Then, at the end of the job, he would set up the forms and get everything ready for the concrete to be poured later, and we would leave.
Lastly, he would stop by a little convenience store and get us both a soda to enjoy on the drive home.
Interesting thing about working like that...
It changes your perspective on things.
Before doing all that hard work, I had wanted to get myself a set of paints and paintbrushes that came complete with a book full of pages to paint in.
It didn't cost a lot, but at that time we had very little spare money, so I knew better than to ask for it.
So after I had worked with my dad one particular afternoon, he gave me five dollars for working.
I stared at it in my hands. I was stunned.
I had my own money!
I was so excited.
I had plans for this cash. I wanted that paint set so bad I could practically taste it.
But the funny thing is...
When I got down to the store and got ready to pick out my prize, I took a better look at that paint set.
I paced back and forth and looked the box over up and down flipping it over and reading everything again and again.
And in the end, I bought it, but afterward, I was sorry I had.
It wasn't that the paint set had changed, it was the same little set I had pined after for so long.
But suddenly, the paint set seemed small and cheap.
I had worked all afternoon long to earn that five dollars, and the paint set cost me the majority of that.
And after I had painted a few pages, I found myself wishing I hadn't decided so quickly to spend it all at once.
I wished I had the chance to do it over and save my money instead of spending it.
Suddenly my time and effort seemed worth a lot more than a silly set of paints and brushes.
Real hard work makes you change your mind about what something is really worth.
And suddenly, it dawned on me... I began to understand why my parents didn't allow me to just go off and get any old thing I wanted with the limited funds we had. It wasn't worth it.
The money we had was earned by hard, backbreaking, sweaty, exhausting work.
Suddenly, my perspective changed and I began to appreciate things in a new way.
And isn't it the same way with our spiritual lives?
As babies in Christ, we tend to be selfish.
We pray for only our own things. We need this, we need that. We ask God to give things to us that we're actually capable of earning for ourselves, and we pout when we don't get it. We lose our faith and say in a babyish voice, "You just don't want me to have anything do you?"
But as we grow a little more and end up having to endure a few things by faith, we wise up and begin to realize the world does not revolve around our own selfish needs.
We have our eyes opened and begin to see the needs of those around us.
Our family, our friends, our acquaintances.
Then outside that to bigger and larger circles...
Others have needs in our own town or city we don't know.
Others in different cities and states on every side are in greater need than we know.
Many others around the world in various countries suffer indescribable inhumanities because they profess Christ as their Lord and Savior, and we have no idea of their suffering until our eyes are opened, and the world is brought into a different perspective all together.
Suddenly, the little selfish things I have asked for in the past seem very petty indeed.
And when I consider the full cost of my salvation, it is too great a price that was paid for it for me to use it selfishly.
Forgive me Lord.
I falter.
I fall.
I forget.
Remind me every day of those who are unable to freely speak of You.
Let me ever be reminded of those who are separated from their families, ousted from their communities, or taken away and tortured or even killed because they chose to follow You.
Keep me ever mindful that the world is bigger than I can see right in front of my eyes.
Daily let me walk in humility and the knowledge of how blessed I am to live where I do.
And Lord, let me stand up with this realization and do Your will as an instrument of You.
Shake me awake. Get me up out of my seat and into doing whatever it is You ask of me without hesitation.
Let me work for You every single day and rejoice at the chance to do it.
And thank You for every lesson in this life You've given me.
Keep teaching me, I pray.
Let me learn another lesson of Your heart and Your will each new day.
Break my own will, and make it Yours instead.
Let me walk down Your path instead of my own.