Lifework

If you had unlimited resources of time, energy, health, wealth, peace, quiet, self-confidence, acceptance, and privacy—what would you find satisfaction in doing? This might be your lifework.

The other night, I watched a biologist promoting his latest book on TV. He had spent most of his life systematically studying ants and ant behavior. He had traveled all over the world—observing, researching, writing, and teaching—about ants. I wonder if he ever felt ridiculous that his lifework revolved around such a minuscule insect. He seemed quite happy and excited to share his knowledge about this subject.

If this man was content to make the study of ants his lifework, I wondered why I felt apologetic about the time I spent studying God.

“God’s works are so great, worth a lifetime of study—endless enjoyment.” (Ps. 111:2 MSG)

I want to make the study of God—His truth, His word/expressions, His glorious works, His splendor, His miracles, His kindness and generosity, His order, His plans—my lifework. I admit, sometimes I feel ridiculous. I’m reluctant to mention my fascination for this subject. I don’t want others to think of me as weird, nerdy, or fanatic. I feel the need to hide away, to indulge my curiosity and passion in private. Even though I’m not eager to share this side of me, sometimes my enthusiasm spills out—mostly in my writing.

I don’t think of writing as my vocation; it is merely a by-product of my pursuit of learning and understanding. I wish I could be more unselfconscious. I wish I could uninstall all the previous societal programming that says that studying, merely for the pleasure of it, is a waste of time. I wish I could unreservedly pursue my passion for God.