A Very Personal Thing (Life's Labour of Love)

Happy Labour Day! Some fruits of labor/harvest are easy to recognize...like onions! Some harvests are far more subtle, so subtle, in fact, that if we are not careful/prayerfulwe might trick ourselves into thinking (for better or worse) they will be forgotten! 1 Cor.15:58Therefore, my beloved brethren,be steadfast, immovable,always abounding in the work of the Lord,knowing that your labor is not in vain in the Lord. ***As much as we are able we may encourage and influence each otheras we labor and love side by side, until the Great Divide.Then, 'each of us will give an account of himself to God.' Rom.14:12 ***2 John 1:8-9Watch yourselves, so that you do not lose what we have worked for, but that you may be fully rewarded. Anyone who runs ahead without remaining in the teaching of Christdoes not have God. Whoever remains in His teachinghas both the Father and the Son. ***None can be and none can do(Not you for me or me for you)Though we need each other, noneNone can smooth talk into placeThe fruit of God’s saving graceIt is personal; the laudBetween living soul and God None can learn God’s word for meNor my prayer’s substitute beFaith’s relationship maintainedIs not, by default sustainedEach, by thought and deed will proveWho or what we dearly loveThus, life's account each will bringIs a most personal thing None can thwart what is at stakeThrough the choices that we makeFor how we influence whoBy all that we say and doEach, in our own hand will bring(A very personal thing)Before He who is not mockedLove-letters of how we walked © Janet Martin O land of rest, for thee I sigh!When will the moment comeWhen I shall lay my armor byAnd dwell in peace at home?Refrain:We’ll work till Jesus comes,We’ll work till Jesus comes,We’ll work till Jesus comes,And we’ll be gathered home.No tranquil joys on earth I know,No peaceful, shelt’ring dome;This world’s a wilderness of woe,This world is not my home.To Jesus Christ I fled for rest;He bade me cease to roam,And lean for comfort on His breastTill He conduct me home.I sought at once my Savior’s side;No more my steps shall roam;With Him I’ll brave death’s chilling tideAnd reach my heav’nly home.