My Labor of Love

" We have different gifts, according to the grace given us. If one's gift is prophesying, let him use it in proportion to his faith. If it is serving, let him serve; if it is teaching, let him teach; if it is encouraging, let him encourage; if it is contributing to the needs of others, let him give generously; if it is leadership, let him govern diligently; if it is showing mercy, let him do it cheerfully."Romans 12: 6-8].

Labor Day, in the United States, is a day on which all who work have earned their rest. We are granted a day off, to relax, to enjoy good food, and to savor the waning days of summer.

Labor Day means a whole lot more to me, though.

I have worked since the time I was thirteen years old. I started a babysitting business at $1 per hour. In my crazy upside-down family, I figured out-- even at such a young age-- that I was going to have to take care of myself.  I used my earnings to buy things that I needed. Labor for me was survival.

If I spent my meager earnings all at once, though, I would have nothing left for tomorrow. You see, by the time I was thirteen, I had figured out that home was not my safe haven. I needed to plan for my eventual escape. My labor was my independence, my future.

By the time I was fifteen, my parents had my whole future mapped out. They told me what my talents were, they told me what college to go to, what to major in, what to study in graduate school, what kind of company to work for, which company to work for, what department to work in, what career clothes to wear, and so on.

If I showed a gift or talent completely different than what my parents dictated, I was told, "We never taught you that." I learned that what I recognized as my gifts, were no good.

I started to half believe that my gifts and talents came from my parents. And if they could give me my gifts, they could take them away. 

I came home one day in ninth grade, thrilled that the art teacher had noticed that I had talent. I said to my parents, "The art teacher says that I must continue in art." The response from my parents: "Absolutely not!"

So, I took my gifts underground. I was afraid that my parents could take my talent away. One day, when I was at a friend's house, I drew a picture of her cat. I was getting up to leave and my friend said, 'Hey! You forgot your drawing.' I told her to keep it; that it was her cat. My friend said, 'No, it is your drawing.Don't you want to keep it?' But, I did not even believe that I owned it. So I left the drawing behind.

I feared that it was my parents who could define me and tell me who I was and what I was to become. I did not know that my gifts and my purpose were all between me and my God. It did not occur to me that my mother and father were trying to play God with me.

Fast forward to my adult self. It was in Bible Study where I learned the truth. We ALL have gifts. These gifts come from God. We get to keep them. These talents are part of us. Humans cannot give us our inherent gifts. And no one can take our gifts away.

I labor for survival still. We all need to eat, to have clothing and shelter. I labor for my future, my child's future, my grand-childrens' futures.

But I also use my gifts in order to praise God, and to give testament to His generosity. God has given me many miraculous gifts and talents. To thank God for His generosity, I lift up to Him my labor, as a sacred offering.

This Labor Day, and every day, I want to remember my labor as a gift, a miracle, a blessing, a prayer of praise and thanksgiving to the One who created me.

[Related Posting: "Burying My Talents", November 13, 2011; and "Labor Day", September 6, 2011.]

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