It’s 7 am.
I look at the clock and groan.
I’m snug in my Nook, nested into my Prayer Chair.
For the last two weeks of my vacation, I’ve spent hours and hours there.
Hiding from people.
But it’s my first day back at work.
And internally I’m rebelling leaving the Nook.
Bah, why do I have to go back to work?
Then I pause.
At what point did it become work?
Was it when, after twenty years of six day workweeks, I finally made room for weekends with two days off in a row?
Not sure. But I think so.
GOHOP, and my life as an urban monastic is NOT a job.
It’s a vocation.
My Benedictine friends at Mount Saviour Monastery don’t draw such hard and fast lines between at work and at rest, although I’m sure they observe the Sabbath.
I’ve been feeling a subtle (and sometimes not so subtle), pressure to define my work with GOHOP as a job. With a salary. Clear cut times of being on the job, and off the job. Well meaning folks, under the guise of making sure that my lifestyle is balanced, are trying to “help me out” in this way.
I love you guys, and I know you’ve got my best interest at heart.
But here’s the deal.
My life isn’t supposed to be balanced.
It’s supposed to be consecrated.
Given to God and to my neighbours (whether I know them or not), in extravagant ways.
A life poured out.
That doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t observe Sabbath, and make sure that I get the rest and refreshment I need to run the race long term.
But it does mean that I need to be vigilant about and set aside what Mike Bickle from the International House of Prayer in Kansas City calls “a professional spirit”.
I don’t do what I do because I have to.
I do it because I GET to.
It’s not a job.
It’s a lifestyle, one that I feel tremendously privileged to be able to take part in.
“Lord, remember David
and all his self- denial.
He swore an oath to the Lord,
he made a vow to the Mighty One of Jacob:
“I will not enter my house
or go to my bed,
I will allow no sleep to my eyes
or slumber to my eyelids,
till I find a place for the Lord,
a dwelling for the Mighty One of Jacob. ~ Psalm 132:1-5