"do not grow weary"
There were protestors in the national news this week. But then, there generally are.
Sometimes, when I disagree with their point of view, I roll my eyes a little at them, but in general it's one of my favorite things about America. I know this isn't the only country where protesting is legal and welcome, but I'm still proud that it's true here.
Twenty-plus years ago, when my family visited Great Britain, we were inconvenienced by taxi drivers who were on strike. But we were only inconvenienced for one day, because polite as they are, the Brits who were protesting only did so on Wednesdays, so as not to inconvenience the public too much. Isn't that wonderfully civilized?
Most of the time, protestors are far away from me. Most of the time it's not personal to me; just something I follow on the news. But several years ago, the grocery store workers in our area went on strike. It didn't affect us too much; we were still able to do our shopping, but it was obvious that many who were filling the roles were rookies who hadn't been well-trained. So we took to bagging our own groceries, to prevent getting home and finding that the bread was under the canned goods...
The strike went on for months. And one day, while I was driving home, I saw the picketers, but I noticed a difference from the last time I'd been near that store. Several days before, there had been many of them, loud and proud. But on this day, there were only a few, and they were sitting.
Before, they had marched in circles, sometimes calling out to passing cars. Now, they sat in the shade, their signs leaning against them, still visible, but not as prominent.
They simply didn't have the energy and enthusiasm they had had at the beginning. Even though I'm sure they still thought they were right in their arguments, their part in the battle had become too hard, too tiring, or too boring. Their passion seemed to be gone.
Our work here on earth is hard, and there will always be something that needs to be done. But there's a time to sleep, and a time to work. The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few, and while I'm on duty, I must work.
Even when it's sunny and hot and I want to rest in the shade.
Even when the task is dull and I want a new assignment.
I must march, and hold my banner high, and proclaim my message, as loudly and proudly as when I first began.
~ "Nevertheless, I have this against you,
that you have left your first love.
Remember from where you have fallen;
repent and do the first works" ~