Such lovely tomatoes Matt plucked from his garden pots and put in the window sill to finish ripening. I donned an apron and set about dicing them and making them into bruschetta, while I listened to a panel discussion online about the theology of work.
The panel took a question, written by a man who was in a consultation position in his job. There was just no way, he thought, that his job could be as good as other jobs when it comes to doing the work of Christ.
The aroma of fresh basil filled my kitchen, as my knife sliced through the leaves, and I thought about my day.
You’ll want to know that I restocked the bathroom shelves with toilet paper (seams facing the back, because I am that kind of person.)
Dusted the bedroom dresser with one of Matt’s dirty t-shirts, before tossing it into the laundry. (Shhh.)
Took a walk and worked on learning some new Spanish along the way.
Tidied every room of the house. (And the crowd goes wild.)
Put laundry away.
Finished editing a Bible study I was writing for my church and hit send. (Happy dance in the kitchen.)
Made a Costco run.
Braved Wal-Mart so I could restock our peanut butter M&M jar. (A hallmark of shining hospitality.)
And I did other sundry chores that you don’t want to hear about.
All the while talking to Jesus. It was mostly just me and him all day long. I wasn’t changing the world or anything (although the next person who needs toilet paper might think otherwise.) But I was talking to Jesus. My heart and mind kept reaching out for him as I did chores and errands and a little bit of writing. For me it was a day of quiet worship and hours of prayer. A day of listening to him.
So to that guy with the question about work, I say all of work, from TP replacement to finishing a Bible study, is holy.
In our minds we have the ability to enter a sanctuary, even if our hands are busy brushing olive oil over baguette slices or dusting a dresser or crossing off a grocery list.
The mind can be a cathedral.
Or a quaint prayer cottage if you’re more the shabby-chic type.
So it’s not a change of work you need, to do the work of Christ, it’s a change of habit.
Turn your mind.
Come, let us bow down in worship,
let us kneel before the LORD our Maker;
for he is our God
and we are the people of his pasture,
the flock under his care.
Psalm 95:6 (NIV)
Turn your mind to Jesus all day long. He is near. He loves you and wants to hear simply everything you’re thinking about and everything you need and all of your questions. I’m quite certain he even cares how your bruschetta turns out.
Maybe what you’ll discover is that the great work of Christ is what’s happening in you while you plug away at the mundane. Yes, maybe you are his great work.