My lovely, but unusual, vacation has come to its inevitable end.   I say unusual, because I don’t remember the last time we had an entire week off and didn’t go anywhere.  Our budget doesn’t run to the jet-set life, but I am a Priceline devotee and we generally run away somewhere on the cheap, even for just a night or two.  This time, we stayed firmly in residence, giving our house some overdue TLC and sneaking in naps, sports (J) and reading (H) at will.  The bedroom was slightly rearranged, which was the finishing touch on a long-term effort to convert it from a bunker to a serene sanctuary.  The kitchen sparkles, the carpets are freshly shampooed (with only minor trauma to the cats’ sense of entitled serenity), the errands are run, and the sun finally set on the last day of carefree, alarm-free unscheduled mellowness.

And then Monday comes.  I often wonder that if I, say, won the lottery (unlikely, less due to the odds than the fact I don’t buy tickets)… could I successfully live a life where neither of us worked?  I can pull off a very good impression of a cat motionless for hours in a sunny spot, I adore posh hotels (paid for with Priceline-cheap dollars), and the attributes of my dream home far outstrip my prospects (two-story library, anyone?).  But at points of my life, mostly further back than the last few years, I’ve had large amounts of time to do as I pleased, and I have to confess, it’s not very good for me.  A week or two is about right.  Months on end, I fear, would dull me.  Too much indulgence of my own whims tends to make me restless, rather than rested.  I read once, in a “budgeting God’s way” sort of book, that we’ve been wrong as a society to think of a decades long, self-directed retirement as our divine right.  The author counseled that we should work as long as we can possibly work, to be useful to God and society.  I’m not honestly sure I like the idea, although I think he’s mostly right.  Some people do accomplish a lot of unpaid productivity in their retirement, which I admire.  Others manage to make a life of luxury look ohhh so appealing.

At church yesterday, we were spellbound by a visiting pastor from Poland.  Through his translator, and much high-energy gesturing, he shared the most amazing story of freedom gained out of a life bound by addictions at an age too early to fathom.  Of God using him in circumstance after circumstance where he had no answer other than Jesus.  His energy was contagious, his vision was motivational.  He reminded us that there is so much to be done, so many people who need to meet Jesus.  It was a good reminder.  Work for a paycheck is unreliable.  We have a good day, and we feel great about the world.  We have a bad day, and all we see stretched out before us is a repetitious grind.  I think the secret is to see our work, however lofty or lowly, as a mission field.  The question is not how fast can we make money so we can stop dealing with it all and live for self.  It’s how can we glorify God today?  Can you quietly trust Him when another is raised up ahead of you?  Can you model integrity instead of gossiping about its lack in your co-workers?  Can you see each customer (or co-worker) as an opportunity for servanthood? Do you use your high position to lift others up as well?  Are you faithful with the talents He’s given you, or are you marking time, waiting for the “real” thing to come along?  Do you really trust Him to provide the rest you need, when you need it (not necessarily when you want it)?

I confess, I didn’t leap for joy when the alarm went off this morning.  It’s not easy to jump back into the groove, even if you feel rested and rejuvenated.  I can’t guarantee I’ll sing Hallelujah when it goes off tomorrow, either.  But I can commit to continuing this revolution, which is spreading past my kitchen to other rooms of my life.  I will be more consistent to have my clothes selected and prepared the night before, to have lunch made and ready to pack, to eliminate the obstacles that sometimes overwhelm my morning.  I will participate in the opportunities of the day with a grateful heart.  And possibly a square of dark chocolate.  It can’t all be drudgery, you know!