Are You a Barnabas?
The September sun felt warm on her back as she raked the last of the leaves into a colorful pile at her feet. With a sense of satisfaction, her eyes swept across the expanse of the freshly-raked lawn. Tired muscles protested as she stooped to scoop the last of the leaves into a trash bag. The job had taken the whole afternoon, and she would be feeling its effect tomorrow but it felt good to have done it. A car pulled into the driveway next door and her neighbor, a retired minister, got out and came toward her. It was apparent that he was going to say something, and she assumed it would be in line with her own thoughts. She was surprised, therefore, when instead of the expected “your lawn sure looks nice,” she heard “I guess you know that won’t do a bit of good. Tomorrow there’ll be just as many again.” Taken aback, she recovered enough to acknowledge that he was right. Suddenly she felt tired all over. Instead of the satisfaction she h...