God of All Labor I wonder: When you created the waters did your arm muscles sing like the arms of the workers who haul wet sheets in hotel laundry rooms?
Or did you nonchalantly SNAP the world into being as they snap towels while they fold them?
When you raised up the mountains did your lower back clench like theirs, when they bend to scrub yet another bathtub?
I wonder if your legs got tired like gas station attendants, food workers and factory employees, finishing a long shift. They know the backyard bbqs are over now, the celebrations missed.
Did your eyes fill up and overflow when you saw the filigree whiskers twitch on your first perfect rabbit; like the eyes of a Covid floor nurse who just watched her patient breathe unaided?
As your work went on, day after day without rest, did your brain get fuzzy like the third shifters who don’t get a holiday today though they’d desperately love to sleep?
Is that why you made mosquitos, God?
(And I hope You’ll forgive me, for making this only about the things I know. You are unknowable to me, with You my words fail.)
Today many of us rest, our offices are closed, phones go to voicemail, alarms are not set.
But Lord, many of us do not.
Breathe life and peace, courage and strength into those who cannot rest today, and grant the rest of us patience and kindness as we rely on the workers who simply cannot cease in their labor.
Aicia Hager resides in West Michigan and is a Postulant to the Sacred Order of Priests in the Episcopal Church. Alicia enjoys spending time with her daughters and her husband, is bonkers about her cats, and blogs at astrawberrypointe.wordpress.com.
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