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Do you have a place you go to every day? A place you call work, a building, a room, a business, a school or even a church? Do you have a familiar place where you are expected to be on any given day, where you spend excessive amounts of time with people who are not necessarily “your people”? Is that place sacred?
If you were to stop all the things you do in that place . . .
If you were to shut the door . . .
If you were to stop what you are doing . . .
If you were to look up . . .
If you were to listen to the stillness . . .
Is it sacred?
Look closely. The framed photo, the crayon drawing, the handwritten note, the balanced budget, the window boasting a perfect shade of blue, the emergency piece of dark chocolate. Amid all you’ve done and all you’ve left undone, you see signs of God’s handiwork, don’t you?
If you could remember the day you first walked into this place, would you have understood the implications of your vocation? The decision and mistake making, the privilege of studying, the laborious tasking, the joy of creating, the mundane patterns of producing, the tyranny of inboxing, the efforts of communicating well, the daily provisioning and – most of all – the tender conversing all bear witness to what it means to be held by God. Children and confused teenagers, starry-eyed fiancés and weary divorcees, miscarriages and miracle babies, betrayals and second chances, suicides and diagnoses and tears of grief, sighs too deep for words, and so many unexpected graces — all are undergirded by and bound within the hope and promises of God’s faithfulness.
What you do and how you do matters to God. And yes, by God’s Holy Spirit, the place you call work is sacred.
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