The coffee is black. This is another term for the un-doctored, un-tampered with, nitro charged rocket fuel a day after a holiday needs. In my own historic reconstruction, I see dark coffee as the official drink of coal miners and steel workers, the backs of whom this great country was founded upon. In the retooled history lesson kicking around my head, this drink unites me with these proud builders in an exclusive club where the only requirements are thick coffee and unkept facial hair. On many days, my coffee is as bright as the soul of a Muppet, but today, it’s united with America.
There are certain traits we grasp firmly when it comes to our family, our country, and our careers. We look and espouse freedom and celebrate the hard work it takes to attain and keep such ideals. Is it guaranteed? Never. Is is worth it still? Absolutely.
As I ripped the entangled weeds from the dry earth under a blazing sun, I found purpose. If one was to find the most Ecclesiastes style form of work, it would be yard work. Yet I toil anyways, believing there was some great secret the ground longed to share with me. With the right amount of perspiration, it would be unlocked for me. There is something special about hard work. Humanity both runs from and towards it. We know the virtue and glory it provides, while not necessarily loving the sweat induced to do so.
So work hard. Your sweat is the reward of a country built on labor and grace. When we work, we meet God. When we work, we find peace. While our work doesn’t define us, the act of work for it’s own sake is good for our soul.
Drink in the dark coffee today.
Matt simon blog 