Work is Worship

Work is worship.

Adam’s blistered hands were screaming at me from the grave.

I didn’t want to listen.

But we weren’t just made for the seventh day.

We were made for the fullness of the week.

The hard,

The dirty,

The early wake up calls before it’s bright outside.

The late nights where all you want are your shoes off and slippers on.

We were made to know the power of the plow.

Not as punishment

Nope

Not as punishment.

As a gift.

Or so I tell myself as I walk from one task to the next.

We ask to see Jehovah Jireh

So He shows up in my paycheck every week.

If we are made in His Image

And if He is continually working and tilling the ground of our hearts

Then wouldn’t I see the face of God as I check in another person

As another short hand tick mark moves over.

If I am made to look like my Creator.

And my creator works.

Then when I work I reflect my Creator and

It

is

Worship.