For the past year or so, many people have experienced burnout at their jobs. Whether you work in an office, at home, or in ministry, you’ve likely felt the pressure. Many people had to work longer hours and adjusted to working at home—and the combination of all these factors has led to a collective burnout.
As a college senior, I feel an incredible amount of pressure to have my life figured out and to be living out what I was born to do. This is most likely the case for any college student or young adult who may be preparing to face the real world. Society leads us to believe that our lives must be perfect and full of purpose in order to have meaning. I blame social media for this, as that is the main platform people of my generation use to share their so-called perfect lives. Obsessing over what other people are doing in life leads to comparison, which can lead to believing that everyone else has their purpose in life figured out.
Note: this article was written for the fall edition of Lutheran Life. It was written before COVID-19 was a worry for the world. As we are now in this new time of social distancing, working from home, and canceled events, consider how you live out your vocations under your own roof.
As you consider your vocations, it’s appropriate to start with where you live—right in your very living room. Take a moment to consider whom you live with. Perhaps a spouse, child, parent, or friend. What are practical ways you can love and serve those under the same roof?
Vocational work at home means recognizing the role you play in your family unit. Your very presence in this home holds the potential for you to carry out the good works God has prepared for you to do right here.
For me, 2019 brought nearly every major life change a person can encounter condensed into a short amount of time. We moved, bought a house, my husband began his first call, we had a baby. In the midst of those big things, I was surviving by abiding. I was learning what it meant to abide in Jesus when I felt as if I couldn’t string two coherent thoughts together at any given moment. I was learning to accept and extend more grace for myself than I ever thought possible. It was Gospel living at its most extreme. Now, we are done moving, the baby is six months old somehow, and we are settling into a new routine. It’s good. This new routine brings with it some breathing room, some space to not just survive but to strive.
A kindergartner works on an assignment entitled “What I want to be when I grow up.”
A recent graduate steps out on her own for the first time, wondering what’s next.
A new parent re-evaluates his employment situation.
A retiree explores how to spend her days.
Have you ever found yourself in situations like these, wondering what you should be doing or how you should be living? These kinds of questions can follow us throughout the various seasons of life. We pray, “God, what am I supposed to do here? Just tell me what to do and how to live.”
This post is excerpted from Wherever Love May Lead by Catherine Duerr.
“What do you do?” the lab tech asked as we waited for the equipment to charge.
From the time I was young, I was a bit of a planner. Most things in my life were carefully considered—and my professional path was no different. I knew what I would study after high school. I had already decided what university I would attend. I had already identified the job I wanted after graduation. And, if I am completely truthful, none of these things dealt with the Concordia University System, the Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod, or the church at all. So . . . what happened?
If success is based on what we know well, self-doubt is an area I could excel! Consider this exchange: