Digging Graves

My respect for grave diggers has gone up tremendously.  I'm not talking about the guys who run backhoes, though I have plenty of respect for anyone who does an honest day's work for an honest day's wage.  I'm talking about the real life Jayber Crows who show up with pick & shovel and dig a nice square hole six feet deep.  I had a sewer problem and decided that I needed to dig down to where I could get access to the line.  The hole is on a grade.  The shallow end is maybe three feet deep, but at it's deepest point I figure the hole is over eight feet.  Breaking up the earth with a mattock and a digging bar, shoveling it out and hauling most of it out in a wheel barrow, gave me time to think.
Aside from thinking about how much easier this would be with a machine, I thought about the old tradition of honoring the dead by digging their grave.  Trust me.  If I had been digging that hole for someone's final resting place I would remember that friend.
In my world, ladies are better at honoring others in a hands-on manner.  They are the ones who bring a meal by the home of a new mom, or a grieving family.  It seems that most of the grave-digging type tasks, that men used to do, have been mechanized, bureaucratized, and eliminated.  When was the last time you helped a neighbor build a barn, or harvested the crop for an ailing friend?  Still, with a bit of thought we can find opportunities.

• A friend mows grass to supplement his income.  One of his clients is a senior citizen with limited income, so she only has my friend mow the yard every other week.  My friend goes the extra mile by raking the long grass for her.
• I talked to a guy the other day who is having back trouble.  He hurt himself helping another.  
• Some guys I know are collecting junk, not to pile in their garage, but to sell, so they can help a couple of families.

There is something manly about serving others with sweat on your brow.  It's a lesson I learned in the hole.

Lord help me remember it.

It's Something to Think About.