HOW MUCH DO YOU WANT THE JOB?

Recently, there was an opportunity for me to move up the ladder at work. A couple of writers positions opened up. Now, this happened at a time when I’ve been working toward moving on with my own writing pursuits. But one of these positions would be very advantageous for me, even if it was just a temporary position (as was a possibility).

So, I set aside my outside pursuits to go after one of the positions. And prayed about it all. It really felt like the right thing, to go after the position.

Well, when the decision came down, I did not get the job.

Now, on the one hand, I wasn’t really upset by that outcome, because, as I said, I was already pursuing other possibilities. But on the other hand, it would have been so fitting for my pursuits if I had gotten the job. And also, why would God have me go through the exercise of applying for it, doing the work involved in the application (there was a writing sample required), and then not put me into the position? It was a puzzle.

So the weekend after the decision about the positions was announced, I was praying about this. It was a song that I’m sure God has heard many, many times. “How come, God? Why did you nudge me to do this, if it wasn’t going to pan out? I could have been working on the other stuff! So, how come?”

Now, when you’re praying like this, and actually desiring an answer to it, you shouldn’t be surprised if an answer does come along. There I was, in the “how come?” mode, and a very different question slides quietly into my thoughts. It brought the whine (for that’s really what it was) to a halt.

In the jumble of all my thoughts about the possibilities lost, complaints about time lost on projects, and general discontent with the stalled feeling I had in my life, the question “How much did you really want the job, for itself?” crept in.

I sat in silence for a bit, both actually and mentally. Because the reality was that I didn’t want the job all that much for itself. Oh, I could have done it well, and I would have enjoyed it. But I didn’t want the job in and of itself. I wanted it for the things I could reach more quickly because of having that particular job. It seemed like an ideal short-cut to some things I want to reach professionally. And that was why I had gone after it.

Now, I don’t think God really objects to us doing some jobs because they bring us closer to some other goal. Sometimes it is the only way we can get to the desired destination. But I do think he is not pleased when we enter a job in an attitude that could cause us to do less than our best in that job.

If my eyes were always set on the Next Thing I was heading to, how would that affect the quality of my work? I don’t think it’s a good thing to be looking at any job as a means toward some outside end. Because the reality is that the ends do not justify the means.

Most of the time, we can disguise the fact that we’re not giving the job at hand our full attention and our best work. If it is done “just enough” to get by, we and those we work with and for usually let it go. But one of my activities and interests is doing artwork. And there is no disguising in a picture those times when the artist has taken short-cuts. You just can not hide a “sketchy” section of a drawing that is otherwise well-finished and polished. And yet, I still slide into that “getting by” mode when I’m working on things other than drawings.

Now, of course, I’m talking about job options that are in a field I happen to love. So, it’s easy enough for me to talk about the importance of wanting the job, and doing it well. But I also vividly recall a conversation with my father years ago. I was still in college at the time, and had made some impassioned statement about loving one’s job. My father responded in very pragmatic tones, observing that most people don’t have that choice, that most people have to do dull jobs, perhaps even drudge-work. Jobs they are not likely to love even in the best of circumstances.

At the time, I couldn’t imagine that. Optimist that I am, I was all for pursuing the occupations that spring from the things one loves doing. Since then, I’ve done my share of brain-numbing drudge-work. And I’ve tried to do those jobs well. Even so, I don’t always consider two crucial questions, questions that are even more important when the prospective job is in a field I really do love. They are questions that need answering one way or another before going into a new job, just so you know where you stand. In some ways, they are aspects of the same issue, sounding like the same thing. The answers are between you, God and the job, but that doesn’t mean you can ignore them. I’ve certainly been reminded to ask them of myself. That Still Small Voice has a way of sneaking them in, if I try to avoid them.

Why do you want this job?

How much do you want the job, in and of itself?