Wired to work

I am wired to work. I would like to have known this (in my heart) in my growing up years rather than internalizing it now, but I guess late is better than never. Before going to work today I emptied the garbage and put some mole poison down in the front yard.

Yesterday I was, once again, the storyteller for the High Point children's church program at North, I mowed the lawn picking up the leaves in the process, we cleaned out the bonus area of our basement and the oldest and I started a pretty good layout with the Thomas the Tank Engine track. I also had the chance to help the oldest with his math and reading homework.

On Saturday I spent close to five hours cutting up the rest of the wood at the in-laws house after spending the morning with the boys and their friends.

All of this is written not to pat myself on the back as to how busy I was, but to illustrate that more and more and by His grace I am beginning to realize that working satisfies me. That is no great mystery to Bible scholars (which says a lot about me), but I need the reminder on occasion that, in my life, work produces satisfaction and sloth produces something less than that.

I have been wired to work and, when I do, I'm sure that I receive more satisfaction than those I produce that product or provide that service to.

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