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.
