I Hate to Sweat

"By the sweat of your brow you will eat your food..." declared God when he evicted Adam and Eve from the Garden. But our modern society - especially your beloved author - hates to sweat. We have gone to great lengths to ensure that we do not sweat. We get college degrees so we can work cushy inside jobs. We eat lite foods so we can keep a trim figure without going to the gym. We install air conditioning in our cars, homes and workplaces. All of this is to ensure no sweating.

Well, I hate to sweat. I mean, I hate it. I like liver and onions better than sweating - and I don't eat liver and onions; I'd rather go hungry, thank you! Living in Coastal Texas as I do, sweating isn't optional, either. When I was growing up in Southern Nevada, I don't remember sweating. My shirts all turned crystal white, but I don't remember sweating. The humidity in the desert was so low, the sweat evaporated (and, therefore, kept me cool) before I realized it was on my body. We later moved to Corpus Christi - and I hated it there because of the high humidity. But the coastal breeze did help, even on those stifling days with 100% humidity and 100°F.

But Yewsten is the worst. At least Corpus had a breeze. Nah - Yewsten doesn't even have a breeze. That's why the smog is so bad here. No breeze! I think I'll ask the National Weather Service about it. So, when you sweat in Yewsten, you drip. It doesn't evaporate or cool you, it stays until you become your very own storm cloud. The water is too heavy to stay on your body. Your clothes are soaked. Your pillow is a sponge. And it can all happen between the front door and the mailbox.

Perhaps it's the curse of the fall that's removed the breeze from Yewsten. I don't mean autumn, I mean Adam and Eve's choice to follow Satan rather than God. He told us we were going to sweat for our food. If we don't sweat, we don't get food. Well, I don't like to sweat, but I eat rather heartily. Heck - that's my favorite of all earthly pleasures. But I gotta pay for my food. My wife earns a paycheck and buys our food from the store. But I gotta pay the Piper.

Therefore I sweat. I sweat when working on the computer right next to our A/C window unit. I sweat when watching TV. I sweat when cooking dinner. I sweat. I sweat. I sweat. And it's all because God commanded it.

I hate sweating so much, that I don't like to work outside. I hate to mow the lawn before October. I volunteered to help friends with projects, but I'm miserable doing them because of the sweat. It's a major effort just to show up and do the work requested.

Is this God trying to get my attention? Is He holding my cheeks with one hand, telling me "Look at me, Clay!" Is He shaking His head in dismay as I try to do things my own way? Before He blesses me, I have to truly learn His ways. My head wants to, but my heart is so resistant. My heart has one foot in heaven and one foot in hell. And, I know that with a heart like that I won't hear Christ say "Well done, good and faithful servant." He'll more likely say, "You gave it a decent shot, and I'll let you in. But instead of a mansion, you got a bungalow on the side of the highway." (laughter, laughter, laughter)

Life on Earth consists of learning God's ways. God commanded us to sweat, whether we like it or not. God commanded us to lean on Him, whether we like it or not. God commanded us to love each other, whether we like it or not. Once we learn how to live the way God commanded... OK, learn isn't really the right word. I've learned it. I just have to copy that data from my head to my reluctant heart. My head wants to forgive that *^#*@&! who cut me off on the freeway. My heart says, "No way!" My head wants to rely on God 100%. My heart says, "I'll give you 50%. Maybe 75%." My head wants to be a good citizen. My heart says, "Let's have some fun like we used to have! Topless joints! Booze! Broads! Heavy Metal!"

Almighty Heavenly Father, I know that you've been working for over four years, in infinite patience, to teach my heart to love you as you desire. After the life I've lived, I have no right to ask for more. Still, though, I must. I am not yet the person you want me to be. I'm still a weak vessel. I have earthly desires. Continue to work in my life until these earthly desires are quenched. Not satisfied, but removed. Continue to remove the influence of the enemy. Hold my hand as I face temptation. Turn my heart from all that is evil - and so inviting!
I pray this in Jesus' Holy Name,
Amen.

Adios,
Clay

(äd-s) [Spanish adiós, probably translated from French à dieu. (I commend you) to God  : a, to (from Latin ad. See ad-) + Dieu, God (from Latin deus. See dyeu- in Indo-European Roots).]