It is my flawed belief that we are not made to enjoy work. There are a lot of biblical verses that mention how hard work is tied to the Fall. How we will toil and reap only what we sow. How those who don’t work don’t receive. And that work is good, just not always easy.
One of my new routines has been to sit at the dinner table with the beautiful Hannah every evening. We light a candle, hold hands, breath out deeply and say a quick prayer before we eat. It is often the first time we sit down together after our respective work days. The last few weeks it has included the following phrase –
“Thank you for work and jobs, that we do not always enjoy but have been given by You. Let us have rest tonight so we can once again return to work.”
If I am honest, it is often less poetic. The heart of it is often more “I really wanted to sit at home and read but thanks for work until I figure out how to get paid for that”. Also, honestly I know people struggling for work who sit at home and read and really want something to do. They are sick of not having a day job, and not just for financial reasons. I have been there before and occasionally long for what I don’t have.
I have a day job that isn’t something I went to school for, sought out or necessarily something I will ever want to identify myself as or by. But it pays the bills. It makes ends meet easily — as long as I watch where the ends are going. It gives me a space to rest and sleep with paid days off and a regular daily schedule. I have health care and life insurance and free food sometimes.
I have benefits in addition to my paycheck.
That statement puts me in a top tier of people that work, which in itself is a tier of people that is smaller than the majority. I don’t have to pay for required equipment or even a bus pass to get to work. That puts me in a higher tier of the top tier.
I don’t always enjoy work, but I enjoy the rewards. And I enjoy that I have a rewarding job.
A rewarding job…
For some reason, probably culture, when I hear “rewarding job”, I get a picture where I am sitting in a fluffy chair, with a pipe and writing stories of life, instead of at a desk in a corner of an inventory room, writing emails to unhappy customers. Yet both are rewarding and who is to say I won’t one day grow a long white beard and sit on a porch as a “job”?
Sometimes I just need to stop and think about how blessed I am to have work, even if I didn’t want to wake up this morning to get on the bus.