Sometimes even when we are not really consciously praying, God hears us. And sometimes, just sometimes, He answers.
When Tom and I first married and he was going to school, I started working for a trucking company out of Dallas. The work hours were late evening, sometimes stretching into early morning. My commute was about 30 minutes each way
Those were pretty much pre-computer days and much of the work had to be done on electric typewriters, which in themselves were a big improvement over the old manual units I learned on.
I worked with a group of 15 or so people typing truck bills, that is inputting information that would tell the driver where his load was going, how much freight he had and details about the cost of delivering it. It was kind of strange the way it worked. Early in the evening the bills would come in slowly and we had plenty of time to talk and just work at our own pace but as the evening wore on, the work picked up until by l a.m. or so, it was all we could do to keep up with the rate clerks who coded the bills.
The only problem was - some of us worked really hard to keep up but others just continued visiting and working at their own pace. Soon that began to really get on my nerves. It wasn't that they couldn't work faster, they could; they simply chose not to and that was what made me so angry.
I tried to tell myself just to do what they did, which was piddle along, but my parents had instilled an old-fashioned work ethic in me that just wouldn't let me do that. And, besides everything else, we couldn't go home until we were done and by that time of the night, I really wanted to go home. So I continued typing as fast as I could (which was pretty fast) but inside I was boiling.
One night I was driving home and I was really complaining about the problem with the others not doing their work. Since I was the only one in the car, the only one I could complain to was God. And you know, sometimes even when we are not really consciously praying, God hears us. And sometimes, just sometimes, He answers. That's what happened to me
From somewhere in my subconscious came a story Jesus had told. It's found in Matt. 20:1-15 but I've paraphrased it a little here.
Jesus said a certain farmer went to hire some guys to work in his field. It was really early in the morning. He offered them a wage to work for him all day and they accepted and headed to the fields. A little later in the day, he went back to town and found some more guys, made them the same offer and off to work they went. Late in the evening, he went back to town, found some other workers, made them the offer and put them to work. Well come end of day and time to pay the hands, he paid them all the same.
Now that did not set well with the guys he hired early in the day. They complained because they had worked all day but got paid only as much as the ones hired late in the day.
The farmer was a little puzzled. "Didn't you agree to work for a given wage?" he said. "Yes," they agreed. "Then what is your problem? I paid you what you agreed to work for. If I want to pay the others the same amount, that is my concern and not yours."
"OK, God," I said.. "I get the message. How I do my work is between you and I and has nothing to do with how other people do their work."
I won't say I've never complained again but I will say I've never complained without that story coming back to my mind. It's a lesson I have tried to remember and apply every time I get discouraged with a job. You see, as Christians, we have to remember God is not only our true source, but He is also our judge.
If we do our work as unto Him, we'll be OK.
When Tom and I first married and he was going to school, I started working for a trucking company out of Dallas. The work hours were late evening, sometimes stretching into early morning. My commute was about 30 minutes each way
Those were pretty much pre-computer days and much of the work had to be done on electric typewriters, which in themselves were a big improvement over the old manual units I learned on.
I worked with a group of 15 or so people typing truck bills, that is inputting information that would tell the driver where his load was going, how much freight he had and details about the cost of delivering it. It was kind of strange the way it worked. Early in the evening the bills would come in slowly and we had plenty of time to talk and just work at our own pace but as the evening wore on, the work picked up until by l a.m. or so, it was all we could do to keep up with the rate clerks who coded the bills.
The only problem was - some of us worked really hard to keep up but others just continued visiting and working at their own pace. Soon that began to really get on my nerves. It wasn't that they couldn't work faster, they could; they simply chose not to and that was what made me so angry.
I tried to tell myself just to do what they did, which was piddle along, but my parents had instilled an old-fashioned work ethic in me that just wouldn't let me do that. And, besides everything else, we couldn't go home until we were done and by that time of the night, I really wanted to go home. So I continued typing as fast as I could (which was pretty fast) but inside I was boiling.
One night I was driving home and I was really complaining about the problem with the others not doing their work. Since I was the only one in the car, the only one I could complain to was God. And you know, sometimes even when we are not really consciously praying, God hears us. And sometimes, just sometimes, He answers. That's what happened to me
From somewhere in my subconscious came a story Jesus had told. It's found in Matt. 20:1-15 but I've paraphrased it a little here.
Jesus said a certain farmer went to hire some guys to work in his field. It was really early in the morning. He offered them a wage to work for him all day and they accepted and headed to the fields. A little later in the day, he went back to town and found some more guys, made them the same offer and off to work they went. Late in the evening, he went back to town, found some other workers, made them the offer and put them to work. Well come end of day and time to pay the hands, he paid them all the same.
Now that did not set well with the guys he hired early in the day. They complained because they had worked all day but got paid only as much as the ones hired late in the day.
The farmer was a little puzzled. "Didn't you agree to work for a given wage?" he said. "Yes," they agreed. "Then what is your problem? I paid you what you agreed to work for. If I want to pay the others the same amount, that is my concern and not yours."
"OK, God," I said.. "I get the message. How I do my work is between you and I and has nothing to do with how other people do their work."
I won't say I've never complained again but I will say I've never complained without that story coming back to my mind. It's a lesson I have tried to remember and apply every time I get discouraged with a job. You see, as Christians, we have to remember God is not only our true source, but He is also our judge.
If we do our work as unto Him, we'll be OK.
