I’m a really good worker bee. I’ve known this about myself, but I’m really just now understanding my relationship with work. I work hard, and for the most part, I succeed because of it. While this fits the American, pull yourself up by your own bootstraps kind of ideal, I think an over reliance on work is deceptive. That is, sometimes I think that because I work hard, I should be shielded from certain negativity, like criticism. As if working hard gives you some kind of immunity. This is a false belief that I have wrongly internalized. For Christ to say that we who labor and are heavy laden are to come to Him because His yoke is easy and burden is light speaks to the worker bee in me, inviting me to trust in a Savior who ultimately gives us rest (Matthew 11:28). My work can never save me, and yet it’s such a tangible activity that draws me to rely on its merit. Thankful for grace and mercies that are new each morning.

We all crave recognition as humans. We want to be noticed at some level (even the most inconspicuous of us), and when our efforts go overlooked we feel slighted.  Thirteen years into my profession I've learned that I can't allow work to justify my worth. I must fight doggedly against this knowing my weakness is living for the acceptance of others. When I allow work to be my means of self justification I am always lacking. But when my view of work transforms, knowing that I can go at it with all my heart because it is Christ who I am serving, I find freedom. 

I found myself frustrated this week as I saw a lot of work that I put into a project slowly unravel because of someone not as thorough on her end of the job. It made me wonder why I went through all the trouble in the first place, and how being excellent in the end still cost me. Meaningless! All is meaningless. A chasing after the wind.

I always want my work to count for something, but often in the end all my toil results in nothing. If I did not believe that my work matters to God in that I am to go at it heartily, knowing that it is in fact Christ that I serve, my efforts would be meaningless indeed.