Relishing the Toil

Is there no greater paradox in our modern American society than the fact that so many can take for granted the abundance of food?

Cursed is the ground because of you;
through painful toil you will eat food from it
all the days of your life.

Yet every day I leave my job, drive home, play around with the family, eat dinner and then go lovingly and excited to water the garden? Where is the curse in that?

It will produce thorns and thistles for you,
and you will eat the plants of the field.

When I garden and bleed or have ankles so riddled with mosquito bites that it looks like a weak case of chicken pox, I welcome it, because I feel so connected with what we often say metaphorically: putting food on the table.

By the sweat of your brow
you will eat your food

Something to get me outside, sweating and dirt under my finger nails and in my shoes? I relish the toil!

until you return to the ground,
since from it you were taken;
for dust you are
and to dust you will return.

What a sobering end, to garden in twilight. My watering of plants is my benediction. I look at the plants, how they grow so slowly, but so quickly (9o days to harvest!), and know that as I welcome the wonderful light of the dawn the ground waits to be cultivated, and I rise relishing the toil.