Sunday I had a little meltdown because several of my freelance projects have ended recently and I’m facing a pretty lean summer unless something changes fast. So I’ve been exploring new employment options and thinking about what could be next and trying to be all peppy and “This Is The First Day of The Rest of Your Life” while also researching Pennsylvania’s minimum wage. And then Matt made a kind comment about how seminary was still a good idea because I need to think about where I want to be in five years and I realized I have absolutely zero goals for five years from now and no real dreams for my career and then I got all teary so we ate Mexican food.
Sunday I also preached at Forefront Church in Brooklyn on the importance of finding purpose in our work by doing it as if serving the Lord, as Colossians 3 says, and that we’re not promised happiness and fulfillment in our work but we can choose joy by looking at every job and every task as an opportunity to transform our character and be more like Jesus.
Irony is fun.
Malcolm Gladwell says, “Hard work is a prison sentence only if it does not have meaning.” I’m not sure what work the next few months have in store for me, but I’m reminding myself again that I get to choose whether those next steps are meaningful because I get to decide if I’ll let God into this part of my life and let him use it to build my character.
I’m certainly not the first person to preach a sermon that I needed to hear more than my audience did. Forefronters, if any of you are reading, I’m right there in the trenches with you on this one—and praying for you all this week.
(If you’re my mom or one of the two other people who asked to hear my sermon, here’s the link. For some reason I said “um” a few times even though this was the second time through, but I’m posting it anyway. If you’ve never said um ever then go ahead and feel superior.)