“You knit me together in my mother’s womb, I am fearfully and wonderfully made.” Psalm 139

“According to His great mercy God has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead.”  1 Peter 1:3

“I told them of the love my mama sewed in every stitch.”  Lyrics to “A Coat of Many Colors” by Dolly Parton

Labor Day has taken on a different meaning for me this year for a couple of reasons; first due to the fact that my youngest daughter Molley is going to deliver her second child any day, and secondly due to Dolly Parton’s recent death.

The death of Dolly has made a tremendous impact in many and various ways, on countless people in many countries.  The world was her stage.  She was, and is, the human embodiment of sugar, and spice, and everything nice.  How has her death impacted you?  Perhaps more importantly, how has her life—and her songs– inspired you? 

Last week at my little church in the mountains a group of women sang “Coat of Many Colors.”  It was something that NEVER would have happened in my previous pastoral life, I would’ve vetoed the idea based on the lack of specific faith and Christ themes.  But those women singing that song was so sincere, so heartfelt, that it was something sacred.

As I sat listening I tried to imagine what it was like for Dolly’s mom, Avie Lee, not only to have stitched that coat together, but to try and raise twelve children in the Appalachian Mountains of East Tennessee, and make ends meet as the wife of a poor sharecropper.  Hers was a labor of love.

But then I thought about the five women singing that song in the church.  Claudia, the former secretary at the church, who cared for her husband through his journey of dementia, and who now mentors a younger woman in the congregation.  Hers is a labor of love.

Pat, who has dealt with many health issues this past year, yet nonetheless has cared for her ailing husband while serving as the chairperson of the church board.  Hers is a labor of love.

Deannie, who spent much of her life caring for children in her own home—a day care of sorts—and showering them with affection.  Hers is a labor of love.

Cindy, who in spite of her own personal struggles, organizes a weekly lunch at the church for people in the community. Hers is a labor of love.

Amy, who visits weekly and provides care for  her mom who is dying of cancer.  Hers is a labor of love.

All those wonderful women made me think of my own mom, and how she lived through the Great Depression and raised three daughters during the tough years living as a farmer’s wife in Wisconsin.  Hers was a labor of love.

And then I thought of all the people in my little church, women and men alike who also have labored in love for the sake of others.  Wilbur, whose son recently died and how he grieved for him not only at his death, but during the last years of his life.  Teri, who lovingly cares for her wife whose dementia is advancing.  Pete, who cared for his cat Winston, who recently died.  Catherine, whose mom has Alzheimer’s and whose close friend recently died.  Yet she finds it within her to lead a weekly exercise class for the community.  I could continue the list.  On and on and on it goes.  All labors of love.

And then, of course, I thought of Christ and His Labor Day.  We call it Good Friday.  His Labor Day that consisted of suffering love that culminated on a cross.  “Who, for the joy set before Him,” as the author of Hebrews writes, “endured the cross, scorning its shame.”  Through His labor of love we have been given new birth to a living hope, and are filled with an inexpressible joy, even and especially in the midst of suffering love.

I would invite you to think for a moment of your life suffering.  Things that you have experienced that have been unpleasant and painful.  Things that happened to you dealt by the hands of others, or that you brought on yourself.  How do you see those times?  I can’t speak for you, but as for me I have too often looked upon them with guilt, sorrow, shame or regrets.  There’s another way of looking at them you know.  As pieces of the tattered garments of our lives, yes, even rags, that God takes and stitches together to form a beautiful tapestry called our lives.  A Coat of Many Colors that we can wear not with shame, but with pride, as Dolly wore hers, using that quilted covering to warm our hearts.  And also to warm the hearts of others.  To see our past, and use it, as a coat of many colors that we can place on others.  That will become our own unique Labor of Love.