By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer
Years ago when my rodeo-clown/bullfighter husband and I followed the circuit, we spent most of our summers on the road getting from one rodeo to the next.
Headed north through Colorado one day on our way to Montana, we listened to the recording of a pastor talking about common-sense matters of life.
“There are three parts in a waking day,” he said. “Morning, afternoon, and evening.”
Okay. Not exactly new information, but I’d play along for another mile or so.
“Work two of those, not three,” he said.
That was new.
“Work morning and afternoon or afternoon and evening. Don’t work all three.”
But who can get everything done in such a short period of time?
“Work two, not three.”
Can’t I sneak in a little extra record-keeping in the evening before I go to bed.
“Work two, not three.”
If I start really early and work through to just after dark, I can finally get caught up.
“Work two, not three.”
Sometimes I heeded the advice. Sometimes I didn’t.
Today, years and miles later, I still hear the faint whisper: “Work two, not three.”
Yes, there are often deadlines. In fact, they are an ongoing part of my life as an author. But if I make good use of my time, I can make those deadlines without ending up dead at the end of the waking day.
There is something to be said for rest that isn’t sleep. It’s deep relaxation. Letting go. Trusting that God will help me accomplish what I need to accomplish.
Dawn to dusk has long been the farmer’s clock, and often those who work the land and care for livestock begin their day way before dawn even thinks about cracking. But if they can take a serious chunk of time during their waking day to do something besides their regular work, it could become a health benefit for them.
When I sign off of my computer before dark, my eyes thank me. My brain thanks me. So does my back.
I have found that if I follow the pastor’s advice and “work two, not three,” I am less stressful and carry fewer aches and pains. If I take one of those three segments of the waking day and rest from my work with a walk, a good book, or doing something completely different from my job, I tend to enjoy life more. I tend to notice the people around me more, those who may need my attention.
Working two, not three, is becoming a habit that I want to cultivate even more. I encourage you to join me in the challenge. After all, scripture tells us:
It is useless for you to work so hard
from early morning until late at night,
anxiously working for food to eat;
for God gives rest to his loved ones.
(Psalm 127:2)
Ella took a deep breath and slowly released it, then took another and knelt to the task.
Mended tears and tatted edges . . . wounds healed over and beautified . . . O Lord, make it so.
The three long gashes closed easily, and the dog gave little resistance other than a whimper now and then. Helen cooed continually to him, rubbing his head and leaning close while Ella drew the edges together with her grandmother’s needle.
She knotted and snipped the final thread with dainty silver scissors and leaned back on her heels, arching her back and neck. “Do you have any alcohol?”
Helen gaped.
Ella laughed. “For the dog. To disinfect his wounds, not for me.”
The woman clapped her mouth shut and pushed out of the chair with a grunt. “I knew that.”
Returning from the dining room, she handed over a dusty whiskey bottle, half full. Ella drizzled a small stream along each seam, dabbing with a clean cloth as she went. Then she corked the bottle, set it on the chair, and straightened, sore from kneeling but grateful for her newfound strength. A month ago, she would not have survived the afternoon.
She gathered the bloody rags. “Where do you want these?”
Helen bustled over, took the rags, and dropped them in the basin. “Go lie down, rest yourself. I’ll take care of supper and whatever else the men need, short of dressing out a smelly old bear.”
Ella laid a hand on her friend’s arm. “I can’t lie down. Not until I check on Cale.”
Helen’s gray eyes glimmered, and she blinked rapidly. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to that boy. I hope he knows it.” ~A Change of Scenery
Inspirational Western Romance – where the hero is heroic.
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