Hard Work

The Windhover

Gerard Manley Hopkins

I CAUGHT this morning morning’s minion, king-
dom of daylight’s dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding
Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding
High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing
In his ecstasy! then off, off forth on swing,
As a skate’s heel sweeps smooth on a bow-bend: the hurl and gliding
Rebuffed the big wind. My heart in hiding
Stirred for a bird,—the achieve of; the mastery of the thing!
Brute beauty and valour and act, oh, air, pride, plume, here
Buckle! AND the fire that breaks from thee then, a billion
Times told lovelier, more dangerous, O my chevalier!
No wonder of it: shéer plód makes plough down sillion
Shine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear,
Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermillion.

~

Have you ever watched ants work?  They keep chugging along, pushing each other until their work is complete.  Then, they start again.  I can’t fathom such work ethic.  I have a hard time focusing long enough to clean my room or wash laundry, let alone try to work all day long and crawl around with a large crumb on my back. 

What is it that keeps the ant going?  Instinct?  Necessity? 

Does the ant ever feel completely overwhelmed with the workload?  I do.  All the time.  And I often wonder if it’s worth it.  Worth the pain, exertion, and effort.  And then I wonder, what am I working towards? 

According to Gerard Manley Hopkins, the hard work is worth it.  Not only is it worth it, the hard work is the teacher.  He writes, “Sheer plod makes plough down sillion/Shine, and blue-bleak embers…fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermillion.”  He reminds me that faith doesn’t just appear overnight but starts and is strengthened by adversity…it grows wider, deeper, more complete with the wear-and-tear.  Amidst the “jostling” of the work, I am reminded of the glimmer of hope on the horizon, despite the bleakness.  There is an underlying Foundation that holds me together in the middle of the earthquake, and once the shaking stops, I will be stronger and refined.

It’s the hard work, the hardship, the pain, the uncertainty that strengthens faith.  Without tribulation, faith has no purpose.  And it’s a process, beginning with the euphoria of newness, which quickly fades into normalcy.  Then, tragedy strikes and I grasp for a life preserver.  Sometimes the rescue takes times or comes too late, and I may not understand why, but the Foundation stills holds. 

I keep ordering myself to be like the ant and the falcon.  Face the force.  You’ll be stronger because of it.