Growing up as one of ten kids in a farming family, I understood from a young age that work is an inescapable part of life.
Before breakfast, beds were to be made, pets and barn animals to be fed and watered, horse and cow stalls to be mucked out. There were never-ending baskets of laundry to deal with, floors to sweep, toilets to clean. And dishes to wash—an eternal mountain of dishes.
But it was only as an adult that I learned that work could also be an expression of love and worship.
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