When you have to earn a paycheck...

A lot of people I know work long days in jobs that kind-of-sort-of fit their interests and talents. In some important moment in life they had a vision of helping people as a social worker, or healing the sick as a nurse or teaching a child to read. But in between those rare moments of inspiring work there are meetings and reports and deadlines and difficult conversations. Sometimes the tasks are tedious and boring. Such is work.

I know the experience. Today, while my job description has me caring for teenagers and their families, talking about things like forgiveness and hope, recovery and second chances, my real job involved collecting a urine screen for a drug test, billing insurance companies, and leaving voice messages for people who will probably never return the call.

Sometimes the spiritual life is portrayed as moments of bliss, sitting in prayer or meditation, chanting with a guru, or transcending the ordinary. But actually, most of the world’s religious traditions invite people to settle down and spend some time in every-day experience. Tonight I attended a meditation group in which our teacher challenged us to ground and breathe even in the most mundane tasks. When walking through the grocery store, notice the breath and become aware of sensations. When sitting with a difficult person, breathe.

I actually like the earthy traditions, the spiritual practices that keep me close to every day mess. On Easter Sunday I took communion and remembered that Jesus didn’t bypass the hard stuff of life. He shows up in broken bread and poured out wine. When he does this, Jesus reminds us that God honors the hard work of kneading dough and stomping grapes. God doesn’t save holy moments for the rich and famous. God doesn’t wait until we can afford a vacation in Sedona or a trip to the spa. God meets the nurse in the oncology unit and the teacher who monitors after school detention. God knows that the single parent has to work second shift at Speedway and so shows up in the customer who says thank you.

Some mornings I wish I did not have to work for a paycheck. I wish that I could sit with my mug of coffee, stare out the window at the spring birds, and revel in a couple hours of reading and prayer. But the job calls. Reports have to be written. Phone calls to apathetic clients need placed. Still, God is present.