Purpose

My dad is eighty-four years old and still full of determination. He lives near me in a little country home and has been spending his days clearing a fence row that had grown wild with volunteer trees and old vines twisting through the wire. It’s hot work, and the kind of job that’s a little too strenuous for someone his age—but that doesn’t stop him.

He’s found his rhythm—work a little, rock a little. There’s an old rocking chair out back, sitting in the shade like a trusted friend. When the heat gets to him, he settles into it for a few minutes, wipes his brow, drinks some water, and watches the space he’s cleared. Then, when he’s ready, he gets up and works a little more. The pile of empty water bottles near his back door tells the story of quiet persistence.

We could hire someone to do it for him, but that’s not the point. The joy for him isn’t in having the job done—it’s in doing it. Each tree he cuts down and each stretch of wire he frees brings a spark of satisfaction that only effort and patience can give. When we stop by to check on him, he grins as he shows us the progress. His eyes light up, and I can see the joy of accomplishment and purpose shining there.

Watching him has reminded me that God designed us for meaningful work—not frantic busyness, but honest effort that brings quiet joy. There’s something sacred about tending what’s been entrusted to us, even if it’s just a fence row behind the house. Purpose doesn’t retire with age; it simply changes its shape.

And there’s wisdom, too, in that rocking chair. My dad knows how to pause and rest, how to pace himself so the work can last. The rest is part of the rhythm—it’s what keeps the work joyful instead of exhausting.

In a world that tells us we must always rush, my dad’s rocking chair preaches a better sermon: Work when you can. Rest when you should. Be thankful for both. Because in both the labor and the pause, there’s blessing. Joy doesn’t come from finishing everything—it comes from finding purpose and peace in what God places before you, one small section at a time.

“That each of them may eat and drink, and find satisfaction in all their toil—this is the gift of God.” Ecclesiastes 3:13 (NIV)