Labor of Love

New research claims that 80% of adults are dissatisfied at work. Since we spend 90,000 hours of our lives at work, that’s discouraging news. 


 But Clyde was hard at work long before researchers researched things like this. Clyde was a simple man doing what some might call simple work—he fixed household appliances.

Customers would bring in a faulty toaster or a favorite griddle and he’d find the offending part or wire connection causing trouble. Or he'd travel the winding farm roads with his tool kit if need be. He never charged more than he should. 

His small shop was lined with uniform metal bins that held screws and whatever odd assortment of parts he needed. He could look at something with his good eye (his only eye) and usually make a diagnosis.

This was back when people fixed what they had, and Clyde could do it. His shop wasn’t on Main Street, but one block east. His rotary phone hung on the wall in between his metal bins. 


The long counter served as both an operating table and a place to have friendly chats with customers. Click and buy was decades away. Amazon was just the name of a river.

Clyde never got rich, but he wasn’t poor either. His grease-stained hands were productive and he provided the only repair service in his town. 

90,000 hours were never counted, because it was about the labor he loved doing. Interestingly, Clyde didn’t plan on being an appliance repairman. 

 He was training to be a pilot when he lost his eye to cancer. So, he trained for something else and with his good eye, looked at life with greater appreciation.





 As we celebrate Labor Day, it would appear that too many don’t enjoy their work. The remedy for that? 

Perhaps seeing our work as a place where we make a difference for others—helping, improving, teaching, healing, providing, nurturing, and doing our work with all that we are for all those we serve.

 Then those 90,000 hours are not a curse, but more of a blessing.


You worked hard and deserve all you’ve got coming. Enjoy the blessing! Revel in the goodness!. Psalm 128:2 MSG

Popular posts from this blog

Dreaming the Dream

Image
Dreaming big dreams about the future is easy for kids. The only thing standing in the way is time.  Kid’s dreams are not about skills, or opportunities, or even practicality. Those things come much later.  My grandson hopes to be professional soccer player when he grows up. This week, a small piece of his dream came true when his Boys and Girls Club was invited to participate in pre-game activities with the Seattle Sounders Football Club.  He got to suit up in a real jersey and walk on the field with a real pro player. Imagine a young soccer player looking up to who he hopes to be one day. If you haven’t taken the time to talk to a child about their future dreams—you should.  They believe. As we get older we sometimes forget that dreams fuel our hopes—and that's something we all need. So, do you still dream? Or have you left those childhood thoughts behind?  S pending time with children will  inspire you to believe agai
Read more

Wild or Tame? Which One Are You?

Image
Finally! Research that explains why I act the way I do. Columbia University’s Motivational Science Center studied people’s activities and what brought them the most happiness. Even more telling were how those activities changed as they aged. Twenty-somethings tend to equate happiness with high-energy activities. Words like excited and ecstatic are usually attached to spontaneous things—even risky things—and living life full throttle.  Researchers labeled this Promotion Motivation —the urge to take chances, including career moves that may not work out. Happiness comes from happenings—the more happenings, the more happiness. By age forty, adults associate happiness with things running smoothly at work and home. It’s also about feeling secure in relationships. Keeping healthy matters more too. This behavior is called Prevention Motivation —and people are more concerned with preserving and maintaining the things they value. It appears that time ofte
Read more

The Quiet Dad

Image
After my granddaughter’s gymnastics, she’d always ask to go to the park next door—even in the winter. When you’re a high energy child, cold is relative. Our routine seemed to overlap with a dad and his son. I’d watch them as I watched my granddaughter go through her favorite activities—crossbar, swings, spinner, and the curly slide.  But the dad was not doing the same. He’d go hand-in-hand with his boy—pointing to trees, clouds, and the texture of the grass. I could see they were in a different place—one of sights, smells, and feels.   His son didn’t speak, so the father spoke into the silence around them. Since it was winter, the park was quiet—just the four of us—an energetic girl, and a boy who experienced the park in a way I never had.   We were at the same place, but in different worlds.    I saw a father’s love for his son expressed in quiet words of exploration. Never once did his son use the swing or try the crossbars. His world was spent touching tree bark and looking a
Read more