Goose Egg Big Toe

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      I have discovered something within myself that I do not like and am surprised to find. I should not be surprised to find it but still it is there. I have discovered that I am a lazy person. I have a streak of laziness in me that runs from “can see to can’t see.” This laziness is a wide streak, thick and continuous, and it usually raises its ugly head when I am faced with doing a chore, a task, or a requirement. My laziness is all about doing those things that I have to do more than it is about doing those things that produce an obvious or creative result.
      I do not like filling out forms, organizing statistics, weeding the vegetables, polishing the silver, putting things up, returning from a trip, cleaning the paint brushes, washing a pot, folding t-shirts, or trimming the edges of the lawn. I enjoy mowing the lawn, painting, cooking, eating with silver utensils, packing up and going on a trip, taking things down, making statistics, planting and harvesting vegetables, putting on clean clothes, and submitting filled-out forms. Of the former things, I am slow to act. Of the latter things, I am quick to answer the call.
      I love maps and will read one at bedtime like a novel. I do not like folding maps, and so the underneath side of the bed has a usual array of interesting yet perpetually open maps. I love organizing a backpack of goods for a three-day hike. I have no interest in unpacking a pack after having carried it and having lived out of it for three days. I love making something that I have never made before. I have no interest in sweeping up the filings, brushing up the sawdust, picking up the remnants, organizing the scraps, and would prefer to let my tools lie where they have strewn themselves. I love the way a clean car drives but have no interest in doing what is required to get one to that condition.
      I am not surprised that, when God had to think of a way to punish Adam and Eve, “toil” was the obvious answer. Adam and Eve had certainly worked long and hard before that time. They had named all the animals, gussied up the garden for afternoon walks with God, organized all the plants for advantageous growth and harvest, and altogether had a pretty jolly old time working day after day in the garden. They never griped, complained, or worried about the amount of work a day might require. Actually, labor seemed to be an OK thing to do.
      Then they go and upset the order and stand in need for the rest of us for all time as punishment. God was very conniving and clever with the result being the simple and innocent-appearing transformation of daily “labor” into “toil.” I suspect that after God explained to Adam and Eve that “toil” would be the punishment, they looked at each other with a little smile, thinking this would be an easy pill to swallow. They had privately feared God might turn sugar into vinegar, or make their big toes larger than a goose egg so they would be easily stumped, or turn their noses upside down so the rain would cause them to strangle, or take away buttermilk. Instead, God gave to them, (and to us), a punishment that we could not get around, which is the daily punishment of clothes to fold and put up, forms to fill out, pots to wash, a desire for stuff that would have to be organized, weeds in the garden, little bones in the fish, stingers on bees, and chores that would have no end. The punishment is a life of meticulous and enslaving toil.
      When God made “labor,” the resulting gift was one of the good things. When God gave us “toil,” the resulting bequeathal was the punishment. Of the former things, I am eager, willing, and able. Of the latter, I am a slug. I would have preferred a larger big toe.

Rev. Dan Martin is pastor of First UMC, Hendersonville. He can be reached at moose1953@hotmail.com