About a century ago, a fellow named "Crihfield" started building houses in the small village of Lisbon, Ohio. I don't know how he got started or who trained him, but he had his own business very early on in his life. He even built his own house, and lived there for over 60 years raising five children and taking two of the three boys to jobs with him and teaching them to build houses, too. He was a hard working guy, had a great reputation in the area, and transferred that notion on to his children, one of which was my father.

My father didn't walk the same path in life that his father did. Instead he went to the navy and served for a while, then got a college degree and wound up being a school teacher. However he still knew a thing or two about building houses, and having summers off as teachers do he would work on whatever house he was living in.

My father would buy a house, remodel it by improving the exterior or updating the wiring and plumbing, or even build on a whole new addition. Then when the house was "perfect" - he'd sell it and buy another house, which he would then proceed to remodel by improving the exterior, etc. In my short 20 years living at home and growing up, he did this to five different houses. Never leaving the area, just moving down the street or across town, wherever he spotted his next candidate. Guess who was in *his* "labor force"? <grin!>

Must be something to that, because when I bought my first house my wife and I worked evenings and weekends, shunning traveling on vacation to use the time staying home and working on our house, until we had it "perfect" just as we wanted it. We put in an additional bathroom, added a dining room, doubled the size of the kitchen, etc. About the time we finished and were patting ourselves on the back and ready to take our ease... my company moved me here.

And you know what? I found I was a bit restless, moving into a house that was already exactly what we needed to start with. So I started to fiddle - and added a porch. Finished the basement. And so on. What I have discovered is that every summer, be it a new shed or a stone patio, my hands are happier busy than idle. I do take my ease - in doing these projects for myself and others. After all, a house needs upkeep or bad things happen. I enjoy the challenge, it makes life "interesting" although sometimes more interesting than I'd probably like it to be. Now guess who was in *my* "labor force"? <grin!>

So it was with an amused smile I reflected the other night on a piece of the book of Ecclesiastes, several thoughts in particular. While we are alive, there is hope. God gives us our lives of labor, better to enjoy even hard work than the cold, dreamless state of the grave. Rejoice in living! Stay busy and provide all things for yourself and for others. A prince is no better than a pauper, a rich man no better than a poor one. All must work, all eat, and all die. Enjoy whatever portion God has given you.

And with this in mind, we should consider our souls. We may have obeyed the gospel, but have we strived to improve spiritually? Added an addition by taking on additional responsibilities in teaching? Finished our basements, by making sure of our foundation in the faith of Jesus? Added a porch, by reaching out to others and inviting them in, in a welcoming, friendly way?

Our father has taught us to build, by word and example. Are we too busy that we can't find the time to do the same? Or so smug in ourselves that we let the house fall down? My father taught me a lot, how about you?

Randy