With all our modern appliances and conveniences, we don't exactly jump for joy when we read this Proverbs 31 scripture: "She layeth her hands to the spindle, and her hands hold the distaff." Why, we are the Prima Donnas of the electronic age. The thought of being "tied" to a machine requires physical labor, and that does not make for a pleasant day! Often I wonder how many blessings I've missed because of my non-involvement in something. You too? We sit, and sit, and sit, waiting for the right opportunity. That's called an "electric" mentality. As you can see, I could go all over the place with this but I'd like to go to times from the past, and then determine what needs to be done in my life to do a productive work for the Lord.
I love to ramble (it is what I know best) so here I go.....Oh, the thoughts about the candy and bake sales of old....
.
and how through that "manual" labor, the sales helped sustained our churches financially. We spent much time baking cookies, pies and cakes for sale in front of a grocery store (or bank). Our kitchens smelled sickening sweet, and we vowed never to eat a "sugary" again. (Oh for curses, I didn't follow my vow; for to this day, I still pick up a sugary treat - oh well, the Bible says all men are liars, doesn't it?). Now to get on with my story - then we "Betty Crocker" mamas wrapped our goodies in saran wrap, loaded them in our trunks/backseats, drove to the designated site, decorated the display table, and sat for hours in front of Bank of America or the local grocery store selling our savory treats. BTW, reason I mentioned Betty's name was that we ladies saved the coupons off the cake mixes to purchase silverware to grace our tables. Funny how I never did collect enough box tops to finish my set of tableware. It just took way-too-many tops to complete a set, with serving pieces, for a family with four kids.
Then there was the peanut brittle....
Ah, now that's another story. I remember the hours and hours of creating this nutty temptation, the inevitable burns (and scars), the aching backs (sore muscles), cleaning pan after sticky pan, mopping gooey floors, and comforting swollen feet that were held hostage in size 9 shoes (feet had strutted to size 10s). It would be good to stop here, because that's enough physical labor in itself; but usually the women who made the candy took their children and a few other kids out to sell the stuff too. Have you ever taken 4 or 5 rambunctious 8-10 year old boys out for a selling adventure? Mercy me! I'm having reoccurring nightmares.
I could call the names of so many of my baking/cooking buddies/friends, but most of all, they were my spiritual mentors. While slapping those patties together we would pray, sing, and just about "preach" in hopes of helping each other through one of life's obstacles. We didn't realize it at the time, but we were having church every Tuesday and Friday morning (during the holidays, it was more). Yes, these were ladies going beyond the norm so their families and others might have a place to worship next week, next month. Their labor helped with the mortgage/rent payment, made sure the electricity would be on for the next service, or that the pastor and his family would have food on their table for another week. Oh yes, saint and preacher alike realized what sacrifice was being made - and the appreciation was so real. Some days I feel ashamed of how easy it is now to take money out of a church fund, or saints take it out of a savings or put it on a credit card to pay for the "needs". We just "electrically" open our sacrifices, nary lifting a finger. Back then there were no funds/savings/credit cards available. However, in all the labor required to make ends meet back then, it developed people of faith – ones laying hand to the spindle in a common cause - the cause of Jesus Christ.
Now in my simple way (and somewhat beating around the bush), I am wanting to say, that we need to renew our acquaintance with “laying hold of the spindle” – perhaps not in the form of candy/bake sales and peanut brittle but in the terms of getting busy about the Lord’s business. It is up to us - to either stay with the “electric doomaflatchie” (hope the spelling is right as I don't have a clue how to spell it so used my feeble phonics skills to create) - or we can get out the “manual reliable one” (which means work!) to accomplish something for Him.
I love to ramble (it is what I know best) so here I go.....Oh, the thoughts about the candy and bake sales of old....
.
and how through that "manual" labor, the sales helped sustained our churches financially. We spent much time baking cookies, pies and cakes for sale in front of a grocery store (or bank). Our kitchens smelled sickening sweet, and we vowed never to eat a "sugary" again. (Oh for curses, I didn't follow my vow; for to this day, I still pick up a sugary treat - oh well, the Bible says all men are liars, doesn't it?). Now to get on with my story - then we "Betty Crocker" mamas wrapped our goodies in saran wrap, loaded them in our trunks/backseats, drove to the designated site, decorated the display table, and sat for hours in front of Bank of America or the local grocery store selling our savory treats. BTW, reason I mentioned Betty's name was that we ladies saved the coupons off the cake mixes to purchase silverware to grace our tables. Funny how I never did collect enough box tops to finish my set of tableware. It just took way-too-many tops to complete a set, with serving pieces, for a family with four kids.
Then there was the peanut brittle....
Ah, now that's another story. I remember the hours and hours of creating this nutty temptation, the inevitable burns (and scars), the aching backs (sore muscles), cleaning pan after sticky pan, mopping gooey floors, and comforting swollen feet that were held hostage in size 9 shoes (feet had strutted to size 10s). It would be good to stop here, because that's enough physical labor in itself; but usually the women who made the candy took their children and a few other kids out to sell the stuff too. Have you ever taken 4 or 5 rambunctious 8-10 year old boys out for a selling adventure? Mercy me! I'm having reoccurring nightmares.
I could call the names of so many of my baking/cooking buddies/friends, but most of all, they were my spiritual mentors. While slapping those patties together we would pray, sing, and just about "preach" in hopes of helping each other through one of life's obstacles. We didn't realize it at the time, but we were having church every Tuesday and Friday morning (during the holidays, it was more). Yes, these were ladies going beyond the norm so their families and others might have a place to worship next week, next month. Their labor helped with the mortgage/rent payment, made sure the electricity would be on for the next service, or that the pastor and his family would have food on their table for another week. Oh yes, saint and preacher alike realized what sacrifice was being made - and the appreciation was so real. Some days I feel ashamed of how easy it is now to take money out of a church fund, or saints take it out of a savings or put it on a credit card to pay for the "needs". We just "electrically" open our sacrifices, nary lifting a finger. Back then there were no funds/savings/credit cards available. However, in all the labor required to make ends meet back then, it developed people of faith – ones laying hand to the spindle in a common cause - the cause of Jesus Christ.
Now in my simple way (and somewhat beating around the bush), I am wanting to say, that we need to renew our acquaintance with “laying hold of the spindle” – perhaps not in the form of candy/bake sales and peanut brittle but in the terms of getting busy about the Lord’s business. It is up to us - to either stay with the “electric doomaflatchie” (hope the spelling is right as I don't have a clue how to spell it so used my feeble phonics skills to create) - or we can get out the “manual reliable one” (which means work!) to accomplish something for Him.
As for me, turn off the electric, please.
11 comments:
Oh how I still can remember those days and nights of the Brittle ministries. Hot pans, soda, sugar and of course the NUTS. The later it got the NUTTER it got. You are correct we as churches still need some form of projects to both assist with finances and a time of fellowship.
Mervi
What memories this post brought! Most years I earned my way to youth camp by selling whatever Mom would bake. And peanut brittle time - what an adventure for a child! I remember hanging out in the kitchen, listening to all the ladies, hearing "Shakers!" as the older girls would shake the pans to spread the gooey concoction. And then the selling, selling, selling. It was a great feeling knowing I was part of the church!
So what to do if God has blessed your church financially and you don't need to work so much? Take that same time and work in the harvest field - it will never be finished!
Precious Memories, How the linger! I have memories of moments like these when my mom was in church. She backslid when I was 9. Then I met a lady at the age of 11 who started taking me to church and I was one of those kids who sold the peanut brittle and helped cleanup the mess up afterwards. That is how I made my money to go to camp.
When I was 24 and my life was a mess (for we moved alot when I was a child and I could never stay in one church so I drifted from God) I found my way back to God in a home missions church and again we did all of the above. You talk about unity, you will definitly find it in a church that binds together and works together like that. Like you said, the praying, singing, and laughter. Nothing like it.
So what if we're not doing the labor in the kitchen anymore. There is always the Harvest Fields. They are ripe and ready for the gathering. Then there is the altar work. What a great place to work together as a team for the saving and birthing of souls.
Thank you for this post Karen. It really stirred something within. God Bless.
Oh, boy!! I started out as the pan washer, butter cutter, and a "shaker",etc. Finally, after I was in my 20's I talked Sis. Irene Wilkinson into teaching me to cook. I loved that the most. Then the selling......YUCK....oh, what memories. Like some of the others have said, there is always a work to do in the house of the Lord.
He restores my soul. I add to that, He presents a table before me, in the very presents of my enemy. I have been at the table more than one time in my life. After he has anointing and covered me, I get up and keep pressing the battle.
Gods best for you and yours;
Mervi
Great memories yet very thought provoking!
Oh the days of making peanut brittle. I was just a young girl and Id see it bubbling up and being poured into the pans to harden. Every weekend. I can relate with this blog Sis Hopper. God help us to desire to labor for Jesus and lose that spirit that wants to rock our generation into a lazy people. God help me to do my part. Thank you for saying all that you did. God was in this post!! It is exactly what God has put on my heart Sis Hopper. God Bless you..
This is a great post. "Turn of the electric, please" - that'll preach!
To You All,
All your comments sound like a group of "PB" workers - in one role or another. Let's turn our labor into the fields for they are truly ready.
It's not a lost art. I'm proud of my sister and family making and selling P.B. like crazy to help pay their church rent. I'm going to go help them next week too. Yippee! :D
Tena,
Their sacrifices will not go in vain. They are very special people, and God sees their sacrifice and will reward them with souls. As for you and your sister, it's "church time" in the kitchen.
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