Folks, for some reason I’ve wound up being friends with someone who thinks God takes time out from running the universe to help him 24/7.
I believe the same thing too; just remove the word ‘help’ from the last sentence and replace it with ‘annoy’.
Anyway, my ongoing battle with the Almighty aside, I was interested to hear my new mate say recently that doing his job really well was one of the ways he likes to thank his celestial boss.
He called it ‘workship’, basically, worshipping through work.
“You can’t just limit time out for God for certain hours on Sunday’s Greg,” he said. Of course, I didn’t tell him I prefer to spend time each Sunday inspecting the bottoms of freshly emptied beer cans, but I suspect he knows that already.
Still, according to his system, he believes doing the best you can in any job you’ve been given in order to show the Good Lord how grateful you are.
It’s an interesting twist when you consider most of us would happily change jobs faster than a Trump tweet if given half a chance.
For many Australians, work is a four-letter word. Something we do to pay the bills and keep the wolf from the door while crossing off days until retirement and filling out Lotto tickets.
Work, like headlice, is just something we have to deal with. Or is it?
I have a couple of other friends who decided fairly early on that work wasn’t for them. They each quickly found a way to exist in the modern world by living what can optimistically be called a spartan existence. So spartan in fact that actual Spartans would be shocked at how spartan it is.
Still, they’re happy (in their own way), and while never getting the Sunday night blues ever again certainly appeals to me, I’m pretty sure my Long Suffering Wife would have quite a bit to say about the downsides of subsistence living.
But ‘workshipping’? Well, it might give me something to do until the cheque from my new email friend the Nigerian Prince arrives.