Look for yourself, and you will find in the long run only hatred, loneliness, despair, rage, ruin, and decay. But look for Christ and you will find Him, and with Him everything else thrown in.
― C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity
“What do you do?”
It’s a common question. Probably the most common after “what is your name,” and I have come to dread that question so very much.
Why? Because right now, that is a really hard question to answer.
What I am tempted to say is: “I am a professional house-cleaner, home-unpacker, shopper, chauffeur… and that’s about it.”
What the truth is: in a rather abrupt change of circumstances, my husband and I moved from Germany where he was working for the Air Force and I was working part-time as a library technician. Because I want to stay flexible with his schedule, want to still have time for my creative pursuits, and don't want to be tied-down here while he interns (somewhere) over the summer, I am not currently working outside the home. I’ve already had to move continents twice since graduating college, and I will be moving around every few years until my husband gets out of the military: that isn’t great for a career in a traditional work setting. So I decided to focus on a career I could take with me: writing, illustrating, and painting.
When I first planned this out and talked with my husband, I had a vision that my days would be split between painting beautiful $700 landscapes while wearing paint-splattered Ralph Lauren, and then sitting down to answer emails from all the people wanting to publish my poems.
Unsurprisingly, that isn’t what life looks like.
Most of my days look like me driving around doing errands, cleaning the house, cooking, and trying to muster inspiration for my creative pursuits. Sometimes I end up just avoiding art and writing, because I don’t want to fail at them. Fearing to start something, because maybe it won’t look like what I imagined in my head. My days include rejection letters from publishers, fewer sales than I'd like from my art business, and way too much scrolling through Facebook and comparing my life with other friends - they all seem to be successful #makers while raising twelve Instagram-worthy children.
“What do you do?” Well, I write some, paint some, take a stab at publishing things, and work a bit at applying to colleges to get my MA next fall.
“What do you do?”
It’s something I think about whenever I go to an event with new people, or whenever I call a family member I haven’t talked to in a while.
“What are you up to these days?” “Oh, not much.” And my brain adds “nothing worthy of talking about.”
I know I am not the only one who feels this way. There are a lot of people out there who think “[insert my work here] is not worth doing.” Maybe it is “taking care of my baby isn’t worth doing.” Or “sewing tags on t-shirts is not worth doing.” Or “trying to start a photography business is not worth doing.”
In a world obsessed with work, where success is defined by your career, and where your business card works as your price-tag, why are so many people unsatisfied?
Maybe because our careers were never meant to define us. I’ve never met someone who was just their career - never just a lawyer, library tech, or dancer.
I know that is how it is supposed to be, and yet I still define myself like that, or try to.
Maybe, like the Apostle Paul, our identity should be in being “a bondservant of Christ” (Romans 1:1) - maybe only then can we “be content in all things” (Philippians 4:12).
I dislike blog articles that share a struggle, then tie it up with a nice quote and quip.
So before you think that’s what I am about to do, I am going to tell you something:
life isn’t that simple,
but (fortunately or unfortunately) the truth is.
So while I fumble at parties full of law students attending a top university, I’ll try and remember that my identity is bigger than my career, and that just because my LinkedIn tagline makes me look unemployed, my work in life isn’t limited to what’s on my business card.
I’ll try (and fail, but try again) to remember the cure for anxiety.
Paul shares it in Philippians 4:
“Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice. Let your reasonableness be known to everyone. The Lord is at hand; do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”
Do the work that is before you. Be reasonable. Pray. Rejoice.
I’m not very good at that, but I’m trying. Are you?