Labor Day - Gratitude for those who Labor for our Freedom

In this special Labor Day episode, let’s pause to reflect on the quiet blessings of freedom—and the people who make that freedom possible. From those who serve in uniform to the everyday folks who keep our communities running through their labor, this episode is a heartfelt reminder that gratitude often begins with simply noticing. Join me for a slower look at how our freedom is built, sustained, and worth being thankful for every single day.

Transcript

Episode 179 - Labor Day – Gratitude for our freedom and those who help to make it happen

When I started working on the podcasts for this month, I saw that Labor Day was the first Monday. Seeing those words made me stop and consider what that day really signifies. If you look it up, Wikipedia and most other websites define it as ‘a day to honor and recognize the American labor movement’. 

As you know, I do my best thinking when I’m outside on the back porch with a glass of sweet tea in hand, watching the sun dip low and listening to the night sounds. While I was out there, pondering this definition, I found myself overcome with a sense of gratitude. Not just for the beauty of the moment, but for the freedom to live it. The freedom to sit still. To breathe deeply. To work hard and rest well. That’s not something I take lightly. And it was at that point I realized that Labor Day isn’t just a federal holiday. It means so much more than that. It’s part of the foundation for the gratitude I feel every day. 

So, rather than wait until November, which is traditionally the time we talk about gratitude for all the abundances and blessings we have in our lives, I decided to do it now. In September. And it felt right to focus this month on gratitude - starting with my own gratitude for all the labor – and laborers – who have helped to not only secure my freedom, but to also make my simple life possible. 

Labor Day tends to mark the unofficial end of summer. It’s a last long weekend before routines settle back into place—school buses rumble down the road again, gardens begin to fade, and there’s a faint whisper of fall in the air. For many, it’s a day off, a chance to relax, maybe fire up the grill or head to the lake. But underneath all that, Labor Day holds a deeper meaning. It’s a moment set aside to honor the workers - the builders, farmers, teachers, caregivers, and the everyday folks who quietly keep this country running. And when you stop to think about it, that’s something worth sitting with for a spell.

We live in a country where we have the freedom to speak, to worship, to gather, to vote, to build, to rest. But those freedoms didn’t just appear one day out of thin air. They were forged by people who rolled up their sleeves and got to work - sometimes with their hands, sometimes with their voices, sometimes with great personal sacrifice. That kind of grit and determination runs deep in our history.

We often hear the word “freedom” and think of soldiers on the front lines—and that’s how it should be. The men and women who’ve worn a uniform and served their country deserve every bit of honor and gratitude we can offer. But our freedom also comes from those who showed up day after day in the factories and fields, on the railroads and in the classrooms, in hospitals and homes. It comes from those who fought for fair wages, safe working conditions, and the right to rest. It comes from the hearts and hands of ordinary people who did extraordinary things—often without applause or recognition.

I think about the men in this country, who spent most of their lives in a blue-collar jobs. They didn’t wear capes. They didn’t make headlines. But they got up every morning before the sun, packed a lunch, and put in a hard day’s work to provide for their family. They may have come home with grease-stained hands and tired eyes, but they made time to sit at the supper table, ask how our day went, and share a story or two. That, to me, is heroic in its own quiet way.

And then there’s the women – both those who worked outside the homes and the ones who were homemakers. They knew how to stretch a dollar and an almost empty pantry to feed six. These women had a garden hoe and knew how to use it to grow food for their tables. They may have taken in mending, baked bread, volunteered at church, and raised their kids with firm love and open arms. No paycheck came with their labor, but the work they did was foundational. That kind of behind-the-scenes devotion is another thread in the fabric of our freedom.

We owe so much to those who built the roads we travel, taught the lessons we carry, grew the food we eat, fought for our rights, and stood firm when things got hard. Their labor didn’t just shape our economy - it shaped our values. And it taught us something important: that there’s dignity in work, whether it’s done behind a desk, in a field, at home with the babies, or in a workshop. Every role matters.

One of the things I’ve come to appreciate about living a simple life is that it helps you see the value in the small things. You begin to notice the quiet efforts of the people around you. The grocery clerk who greets you with a smile. The farmer who’s already been in the fields for hours before your day begins. The nurse who works the night shift. The sanitation workers who make early morning rounds. The guys sweating in the hot summer sun as they lay asphalt for safer, smoother roads. These are the folks who keep the wheels turning, who rarely get recognized but carry a great weight.

Gratitude, real gratitude, means pausing to see those people. Not just nodding politely or tossing out a half-hearted “thanks,” but really seeing them. Acknowledging the work they do. Recognizing the impact they make. It means saying, “I see you. The work you do is very much appreciated. What you do matters. To me, and to all the others you serve.” That kind of gratitude can shift the way we look at the world.

Now, Labor Day isn’t about grand gestures. It’s about honoring the effort. It’s about remembering that someone built the house you live in. Someone delivered the mail. Someone hauled the lumber. Someone stitched the clothes. Someone taught the lessons in your child’s schoolbook. It’s even about those who create music, write books, and volunteer to plant community gardens to help make our world a more pleasing and beautiful place. And it’s about recognizing that work—when done with heart and purpose—is sacred.

And freedom? It’s more than just the big, sweeping idea we hear in speeches. It’s found in the ability to earn an honest living. To raise your children how you see fit. To gather around the table and give thanks. To be able to worship - without having to sneak around to do it. It’s in the choice to live slowly and simply. To grow your own food. To build something meaningful. To speak truth with kindness. And yes, it’s also in the right to rest.

So, on this Labor Day, I invite you to take a moment. Step out onto your porch. Let the hum of a quiet moment settle around you. And think of the people who helped make that stillness possible. Think of the men and women, past and present, who paved the way for you to live a life of purpose, peace, and freedom.

Maybe send a thank-you note to a teacher or a nurse. Maybe bake a batch of cookies for the folks at your local fire station. Maybe just offer a genuine “thank you” to the cashier ringing up your groceries or the neighbor who is always willing to lend a hand. Those little moments of gratitude? They add up. They build community. They remind us that we’re not walking this road alone.

We don’t always need grand parades or loud declarations to express our thanks. Sometimes the best kind of gratitude is quiet, steady, and woven into the way we live. It's in the way we treat others. The way we approach our work. The way we rest. The way we remember.

There’s a kind of beauty in recognizing that even on the most ordinary of days, someone somewhere made that day a little easier, a little safer, a little more possible. So, as we celebrate Labor Day—not just as a day off, but as a day to look back and look around—may we do so with hearts full of gratitude.

And while we’re at it, let’s also thank the good Lord for the blessings we enjoy. For the freedom to worship, to work, to build a life rooted in faith and simple joys. For the strength to labor and the grace to rest. For the generations before us who carried the weight so we could walk a little lighter.

Because the truth is, a simple life isn’t built overnight. It’s built with every small choice. Every hard-earned dollar. Every quiet moment of thanks. And every act of appreciation for the people who helped make this kind of life possible.

Thank you – each and every one of you - for all you do, every hour of every day, to help make our world a better place. And thank you for taking a few minutes of your time and sitting with me out here on the porch while we ponder what Labor Day really means. Until next time, take care of your home, your people, and your heart—and don’t forget to say thank you.