Persistence

I envy the maintenance man. Not because of what he does. Not because of his work hours. Not because of his pay. And not even because of his dashing looks. I envy him because he has a job that while being one of the most thankless jobs in the company, without him no one else could function.

He makes sure the furnace is running before winter comes. He changes the light bulbs so I have light to work. He mows the grass where I sit and eat when it’s nice outside. He scrubs the graffiti off the back wall. He even changes those blue urinal cakes. Everything he does, he does quietly in the background, but it’s all completely essential.

Sometimes I feel the opposite. I am constantly scrutinized, monitored, and evaluated. I always have something else that needs done, and sometimes it all feels meaningless. I don’t directly do anything that is any benefit to anyone. Its hard to feel accomplished when you feel this way.

My only consolation is the work done for God isn’t done in vain, but that is starting to feel empty in a different way. I feel like I’m on the right road, but right now that road is one of those you always see in movies. The ones that are perfectly straight, cut between two corn fields in nowhere, Iowa. Maybe an abandoned farmhouse in the distance. You don’t even know where the road goes, and there is no one but you around. So you keep walking.