I spent my morning elated that the worksite I was headed to was coming to a conclusion. Finally, an opportunity to see the fruit of my labor, a chance to see the work that I had been a part of come to fruition. The car port was going to be finished, the bathroom would be tiled, siding would be assembled. I was ecstatic. For the first two hours, I spent my morning going strong, excited about the meatball subs that our homeowner, Mrs. Sharon, had made us, and most of all ready to see the result of a long week's work. I was ready.
At about eleven we got a call from Bret's site saying that they could really use more hands. Their site was behind schedule and they were really only going to make the cut if they had "all hands on deck." I didn't want to go. I wanted to stay behind and see the beautiful work we were currently doing and continuing to do on Mrs. Sharon's home. But I'm a driver this week, which means that I get the opportunity, privilege, and sometimes chore of driving people to and from locations. I wasn't excited, but it was what needed to happen and it was where I went.
Throughout the day, I enjoyed my time with the people at the other worksite. I spent my day tiling a floor with Holly, and we enjoyed each other's company -- laughing, smiling, and sometimes just working in silence. I found my day to be joyous and full of small accomplishments. I was happy to be where I was, and though it was stressful at times, Holly and I tiled a whole room in the better part of a single day.
For me, this day represents an average day in what I live every day at home. I find myself cyclically happy, sad, irritated, and happy all over again. Today was a wondrous reminder that sometimes the fruit of our labor is not the goal. The goal is the labor itself. That through our work, though we may not see the end, being a participant is something that we can find joy in. In a large part, this is how missons like A.R.M. operate -- they are an ongoing mission to a community in need, where one group simply does all they can with all they know and all they're given.
Wouldn't it be incredible if we all embraced a similar ideal about our own life? Finding joy in the journey and in the toil, rather than in the achievement or the reward at the end? Personally, I think that this is one way that we can continue to further our own happiness and the happiness of God's kingdom. By humbling ourselves enough to not need to see the fruits of our labor, but to simply know that the labor itself is enough.