In my younger days, I enjoyed physical labor. Partly, because it was different than my day job and partly, because I knew it was short-term. I worked construction, helped on farms, did many mission trips to paint houses, mow yards, muck out basements, and other manual labor to help others. On our Haiti trips, I liked helping the real laborers.

But I knew it would come to an end. I knew I’d go back to my “desk job” and the only thing I’d take with me were some sore muscles. I also knew that it would be hard for me to earn a living at a physical job. As a school principal, I’d often tell teachers not to complain about their jobs because the parents of our kids are line workers, mechanics, waitresses, and people that had jobs requiring them to work at night or work long hours.

We recently returned from a family trip to Costa Rica. It was a fun, relaxing, and interesting trip, seeing unique animals and geography. But the trip also reminded me of how much of our world relies on physical labor. So many people around our planet, earn their living with their backs. Street vendors standing in the sun peddling their wares. People walking or riding bikes up significant hills to their workplace. Delivery people carrying heavy loads. Construction workers with shovels instead of machinery. Coffee harvesters that pick only the ripe red fruit and are paid by the weight of their yield. Cooks and other staff at our villa that worked long days to serve us.

During and after my health issues, there is no way I could work a full day and certainly not a job that required physical labor. What would our family have done if they relied on my income to live and I couldn’t work? What happens to families that have wage earners that die or become incapacitated? Yikes!

While I feel we have been diligent about investing for our retirement, having Medicare is an amazing gift. We are able to be comfortable in our retirement because I’ve worked for employers that matched or contributed to our retirement accounts. Not everyone has that luxury here and certainly not there.

Our house was built by many hands. The food in our pantry was grown, packaged, shelved, and sold by laborers. Our cars were assembled by shift workers. Every week, electrician, delivery, garbage, or plumbing trucks drive through our neighborhood. Most of the things in our house were assembled, shipped, and delivered by people working long hours.

Not to be outdone, I do walk up the stairs and mow the yard with a lawn tractor.