Of all the house work than can be done, painting is the thing I like least. It's great when it's done, but until then, it's torturous.
That's how I spent my day, painting a bathroom. I assumed that it would be a shorter job because it is small room, but I forgot something.
Angles. Lots of angles.
At the end of the day, the bathroom is painted. And I did remember to move the towels.
After I picked Leslie and Kenna up from Mother's Day Out and school, we ran to Sonic for Happy Hour. Two watermelon Slushes and a Route 44 Dr. Pepper for $2.50, and I felt payment was fulfilled for a day of painting.
I've been realizing something these last few weeks. I mean, I always thought this is what the reality of my life was during the times I wished for anything but the job I had, but this is clarification for me. I have come to know that my fulfillment is not in the money I make. Sure, I love things, and would love to have things like a new Camaro and hardwood floors and a new air conditioner- but that is not what fulfillment is for me.
It is working with my hands to finish a project around the house on my own. It's writing about life or preaching a message and hearing that it speaks to others. It's watching the success of my wife doing what she loves. It's cheap cold drinks on a warm spring afternoon with my kids in the back seat turning their lips and tongues red or blue or purple like their slush.
It is being able to look in the mirror at the end of the day and seeing a smile because today mattered. Today I could do the things I love, the things that give me hope. Even the painting I can't stand makes me smile because I can see the results of my labor, and the appreciation of my wife and kids.
I once commented that I envied friend of mine who had found a way to make a living doing what he loved, what gave him life. He is a photographer, and he's good. I wished that I could do that. I was doing what I loved- starting a church- but it was eclipsed by the thing I did for money. Slowly, the thing I simply did to pay the bills began to suck the life out of the things that give me life. I was too tired to work on projects or write much, I was terrible about noticing my wife's work around the house and with the kids, and I spent more time feeling infringed on by my kids than working to see their happiness spilled out. I let something steal my joy, to cut off my fulfillment.
I will not let that happen again.
Not just for my sake, but for my family's. For the people I serve as pastor. For the few who read what I write. For these people, and for myself and for my God, I will seek the things that give me life. I will not go through the motions, and make facades.
The simple joys of a finished paint job and little red toothed smiles are far too sweet to be ignored any longer.
Sweet.
ReplyDeleteHappiness is very difficult to find if you are worried about money. Why not start your church in a place that will pay you money for your professional talents? Instead if staying in the same place that won't pay you as much. People everywhere need religious leaders, not just College Station.
ReplyDeleteIf it were only that simple. We've thought of the possibility of leaving, yet God seems to be saying this is where we are needed. There may not be many students that we are reaching right now, but these are the ones He has called us to reach. The other side of that is that not all church starters get paid, and often if the people paying aren't happy the funding gets yanked without notice- putting me back in the same situation.
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