On being in a ditch

I spent most of today in a 21 inch ditch running the length of a camp where we are working on a mission trip. The purpose of the ditch is to run a power line to a chapel that hasn’t had power in 40 years.

As I looked at my clay-covered hands and the crew of people we had digging, I realized that when I turn on a light switch, I never even consider the people and hours that it took for a line to be buried so that I can see. I never think of the dirt-stained, blistered hands that worked for hours making it possible for me to see.

We are all depending on the backs and arms of ditch diggers who have gone before.