On this blistering hot July day, sweat poured down my back as I left the comfort of air-conditioning and lemonade and trudged forward to complete the duty assigned to me. The gravel driveway out the back door of our home, leading across the highway and into the barn, felt longer with each plodding step.
While my friends laughed and frolicked in the nearby swimming pool, I had to work. There would be other days for the pool, but not today. A truckload of whole oats had been delivered to the feed room of our barn, and the oats had to be ground into a feed mixture suitable for our livestock. The process would take all afternoon.
Using a shovel, I loaded the grinding machine with a mound of oats. Next, I confirmed that no foreign objects (like nails) contaminated the mix. Then, I stood guard and monitored the grain as it went through the funnel of the grinding gears and fell onto the concrete floor beneath.
Taking up the shovel again, I transferred the ground-up grain into the nearby corner and then turned to repeat the dirty, monotonous routine. All afternoon, all afternoon long. The smothering atmosphere of the workroom, the sting of the oat fuzz, and the realization that I was the only one responsible for this chore made me feel crummy. But I persevered, one shovel load at a time.
At long last, the sun went down, and my job ended. Done! All the oats stood milled and formed a mound reaching nearly to the ceiling. Thank goodness. A cold drink, a hot bath, and a soft bed awaited me.
In the agrarian environment where I grew up, work was a necessity—for everyone. No one got a hall pass. Did I like the barn? No. Did I enjoy being isolated in the feed room when my friends were together swimming? No. But what I did not know then, I realize now … the barn served as a training ground, and for that, I am deeply grateful.
3 Life Lessons Learned in the Barn
• The value of hard work when there is no audience
• The significance of stick-with-it discipline needed to complete a task
• The satisfaction of pausing to savor a job well done
Hard work, discipline, and satisfaction—whether in a barn or a boardroom, at a desk or in a ditch, at a conference table or in a community center—weave the fabric for inner fortitude. The barn was hard and the nasty experience unpleasant, but the lessons learned there have stood the test of time, and are worth their weight in gold. I am convinced, God is in the barns of our lives.
Living With Eternal Intentionality®
“He has also set eternity in their hearts” (Ecclesiastes 3:11).
Whatever you do, do your work heartily, as for the Lord rather than for men . . .” (Colossians 3:23).
Do you have a barn in your life, a place of hard work without an audience, where only you and God know the grueling hours of work you put in?
Where is there hardcore discipline needed to pick up the shovel and complete a task facing you?
Perhaps you are a caregiver with no end in sight, the mother of a newborn needing a nap, a student preparing a paper, or a pastor cloistered away in your study. Maybe you are standing at a stove stirring a pot of soup or sitting at a desk grading papers. When did you last pause to savor the realization of a job well done?
What takeaway motivates you to stay in the barn until the job is done?
