This week Labor Day will be observed in the United States. The holiday traditionally honors the worker and his or her contribution to the success of the country and the economy. But work for work’s sake is often an idol in the U.S. culture. Being “busy” or “too busy” is worn as a badge or honor and value. If you don’t have every second scheduled, every moment committed to something external, you must not be a real person.

In Matthew 6, Jesus reminded His listeners that frenzied and anxious work doesn’t actually add value to life. “Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life?”

I’ll admit indulging in frenzied busy-ness far too often. It’s one of those easy traps to find value and validation outside of my relationship with God. Historically, I’ve said ‘yes’ and ‘I can’ many times when I should’ve said ‘no’ or ‘I can’t’.

Going through my blogs as I prepped to write this, I came upon the blogs from seven and a half years ago when I pushed myself so hard when I had bronchitis that I ended up having massive panic attack so severe that I lost touch with reality for a couple of hours. Instead of resting and healing, I had taken yet another dose of cold medicine and kept going. And I paid for it. And it took me much longer to recover from the combined events than it would’ve if I’d just listened to the doctor (and God’s many nudges to rest) in the first place.

If you think about it, Labor Day is a day off to honor the workers. It’s an acknowledgement that none of us can keep working endlessly. The body needs downtime and recovery. The mind needs rest and boredom to fuel imagination. The soul needs stillness and peace to feel the presence of God.

Therefore, why do I (or any of us) work beyond our ability—pushing ourselves into sickness, fatigue, and injury?

Last year’s Labor Day post was on the value of work. Work began in the Garden of Eden. It was not a curse, but a blessing. What changed after the fall was that work, instead of fulfilling our purpose, could become toil. It would be arduous—sometimes simply because of the thorns and thistles of life. But sometimes, and this is the focus of today’s post, because we chose effort over rest.

Choosing to work when we shouldn’t or needn’t is a way of saying to the Creator, “I don’t need your limits. I am in control.”

Then, something happens to us physically, situationally, or emotionally to remind us that we are mortal and we have broken the trust our body asks of us.

Even though Paul was using this verse in a different context, I think it still applies because we’re talking about not treating the gift of body that God gave us as a temple if we abuse it with too much work and too little rest.

 “Or do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God? You are not your own, for you were bought with a price. So glorify God in your body.” I Corinthians 6:19-20

As the autumn increases in activity, Lord, remind me of the limits you gave the wonderful body that you have allowed me to use. Keep me to its limits and may the work and the labor I do accomplish glorify you. Amen.

Diana Hardt, you won this week.

Remember, this is the last week to comment on the blog and earn the possibility of winning the summer grand prize of a complete paperback set of the Talbott Family mysteries and a $25 Amazon gift card. One lucky winner will be awarded next Wednesday, September 9th, and chosen from all the comments since June 1st. Each comment is an entry!

Gary and I made plans to go to a museum we’d never before attended because its admission was pricey and most of the attractions in D.C. are free, so we’ve kinda gotten used to that. But we’d heard good things about it, so we set aside the time and the money.

We went online to purchase our tickets only to discover that the day we’d chosen was free for a special promotion.

Part of me was so ready to pay, we’d psyched ourselves up for it and budgeted for it, so I almost wanted to. But the checkout reaffirmed that the price of our tickets was absolutely nothing.

That got me thinking about salvation.

So often, so very often, I want to pay for it. While I know I can do nothing to contribute to the incredible price Jesus paid and I need only accept it, I find myself thinking, “But what if I gave something? What if I did some extra works that weren’t part of what you made me to do? What if I paid just a little?”

I can’t and I know it. The Bible says all my works are filthy rags and if you know what that translates to, you know it’s really disgusting so I’m so not going there this morning. But that doesn’t stop me wanting to do something to buy God’s favor. It’s like when someone gives you a lavish gift that you can in no way pay back.

There was such an exchange when I was a teen. My aunt, for reasons known only to her, she never told me, bought me a necklace of my birthstones for my seventeenth birthday. It was much more than the usual exchange of presents. So, wanting to do more than the usual thank you, I made her a card—the prettiest I could with all the supplies I had. I think I remember even putting lace on it. I was trying to pay back beauty with beauty. But the disparity made my effort ridiculous, though she thanked me for it. But she had been content with my gratitude and didn’t need the card.

How much more extreme is it when I try to pay anything toward the salvation that I had no ability to achieve? After all, He is content with my gratitude.

 For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast. (Ephesians 2:8-9, ESV)

With the ticket, with the necklace, I could only accept. I couldn’t pay for something that was already paid for.

Long before I was born, Jesus paid the penalty for the Garden in full. Upon the cross, He said “Tetelestai!” which means “paid in full”. His death purchased heaven for all who call upon His name in grateful and obedient belief. My status as a child of God was already paid for. I can’t pay for it again. (Not that I ever could!)

Instead, every time I start to think that way, I have to remember that I can make my card of construction paper and lace out of gratitude. I can walk in obedience and do the works He designed me for, while acknowledging that I owe Him absolutely nothing for His absolutely everything. I can accept and walk in the gift.

Wow, so many comments last week! Because of that, I will be sending off two gifts this week. The winner of Guzzy Goofball plus a couple bonuses is Antoinette M and Teri Ware wins a collection of gifts. If each of you could email me your address at [email protected], I will send those right out to you.

2 more weeks of this summer giveaway!

This summer, my fibromyalgia as well as a new joy (hear massive amounts of sarcasm), a pinched nerve in my hip, have made stretching a daily, sometimes hourly necessity. For those of you without the experience of fibro, it both makes everything tight and movement difficult and painful. The pinched nerve, in its attempt to protect my body from future injury, has further tightened my hamstrings and muscles near my hip. Without stretching, I would be immobile.

In life, physically, mentally, and spiritually, we need to stretch. Stretching our minds keeps us ready to learn. Stretching our spirits helps us become more like our Savior. But just like with the body, needed stretches can be uncomfortable, repetitious, and sometimes, downright painful.

But without them, we reach a point where we can no longer move.

Repeatedly in the Exodus account, Moses was told to stretch. To stretch out his hand and proclaim the locusts, the dark, and many of the other plagues. In the end, he was told to stretch his hand over the seas—first to divide them, and then to send them crashing back down on the Egyptians. But yet, in the song of worship and deliverance, we learn that Moses stretched, not only in obedience to God, but on behalf of God. In truth, in the heavenly realities, each and every stretching miracle belonged to God and God alone. “You stretched out your right hand; the earth swallowed them.” (Exodus 15:12)

Later in the book of Joshua, after Moses is gone, Joshua’s hand gets to represent the hand of his Creator in the conquest of the Promised Land.

Elijah stretched across the dead boy—offering everything he was and all he had to God to restore the widow’s treasure. In the dedication of the temple, Solomon begs God to acknowledge the prayers of any who stretch out their hands in pleading hope to the temple. “…whatever prayer, whatever plea is made by any man or by all your people Israel, each knowing his own affliction and his own sorrow and stretching out his hands toward this house, then hear from heaven your dwelling place and forgive and render to each whose heart you know, according to all his ways, for you, you only, know the hearts of the children of mankind.” (2 Chronicles 6:29-30)

God, Scripture echoes, stretched out the heavens. If His stretch has that much power, why don’t we stretch towards Him when we need anything? If we need understanding, he offers to stretch out to us with His wisdom. (see Proverbs 1) And, on multiple occasions, Jesus only healed if the person asking for healing stretched out.

Stretching isn’t our natural inclination. Especially in the spiritual. We’re more likely to curl in on ourselves in pity and hide. Isn’t that what Adam and Eve did at first when caught in their sin? When we stretch out, we acknowledge God’s sovereign power and our lack. We proclaim that without Him, we can do nothing. Without Him, we can’t “live and move and have our being” as Paul quoted on the Areopagus.

As I stretched my muscles today, I thought of the God who stretched out the heavens, stretches out to rescue us, and let his arms be stretched upon a cross.

Please Lord, remind me that I need to stretch to You.

Not enough comments this week, so the Guzzy Goofball copy is still in the running. Remember, the Wednesday after Labor Day one of the commenters from the summer will get a complete print set of the Talbott Family mysteries and a $25 Amazon card. Keep commenting for a chance to win!