Your Work Is a Gift

You may never stand behind a pulpit.

You may never teach a Sunday school class or lead worship. Your days may be spent advising clients, managing a team, running a business or doing work that rarely receives public recognition.

Still, your life touches other lives.

Someone encounters you through a conversation, a decision, a service you provide or a responsibility you carry. Through that encounter, they may experience something of the grace and goodness of God.

I often think about the saying that our lives may be the only Bible someone reads. It is a familiar expression rather than a verse of Scripture, but the thought behind it sobers me.

For someone who would never enter a church or open a Bible, their relationship with a Christian may shape what they believe about the God we serve.

That challenges me to be mindful of how I show up.

The gift in our hands

I believe our work is a gift.

There are abilities we have developed through study, practice and experience. There are things we notice, understand or know how to do that can be useful to someone else.

Those abilities carry responsibility.

First Peter speaks of using the gifts we have received to serve others, as stewards of God’s grace:

“As every man hath received the gift, even so minister the same one to another, as good stewards of the manifold grace of God.”
—1 Peter 4:10, KJV

I find that word stewards helpful.

It asks me to consider what has been entrusted to me and how I am using it. Who benefits from my ability? What care do I take with the influence I have? Am I willing to keep learning so that I can serve responsibly?

In my work, that includes the quality of my advice, the care I take with information and the way I help people think through decisions. It includes being prepared, acknowledging the limits of what I know and treating the people affected by my recommendations as people whose lives matter.

Whatever our field, there is something we can offer through doing our work with care.

What people experience in our presence

When I think about bearing witness to God, I naturally think about what I might say.

But people also experience how I listen, how I respond to frustration and what I do when something goes wrong.

They notice whether I honour a commitment. Whether I admit an error. Whether I handle something they have shared with discretion. Whether my manner changes according to how much influence they have.

These are ordinary moments, but they tell a story.

A person may forget much of what I said in a meeting and remember whether I allowed them to speak without making them feel foolish. A client may remember how I handled a mistake long after the original problem was resolved. Someone with little authority may remember whether I treated their concern seriously.

I want those encounters to reflect the God I speak about.

Jesus says:

“Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.”
—Matthew 5:16, KJV

That gives me a purpose beyond being regarded as a good person. I want the way I live to make room for someone to recognise His goodness.

When I am tired or inconvenienced

This becomes more demanding when I am under pressure.

It is easier to be gracious when there is enough time, the conversation is pleasant and the work is going well. I learn more about myself when someone interrupts me, misunderstands what I have said or creates a problem I did not need.

Those moments reveal where I need God’s help.

I can become impatient. I can assume that someone should already understand. I can give a technically correct answer in a manner that leaves the person feeling dismissed.

My intention may have been to get through the task, but the person experiences the response.

That is something I want to pay attention to.

I do not want to justify unkindness simply because I was busy. There may be a workload problem to address, a boundary to communicate or a conversation that should happen at another time. I can attend to those things while taking responsibility for how I treat someone.

Sometimes the faithful response is to pause before answering. Sometimes it is to say, “I cannot give this the attention it needs right now. Can we speak later?”

And sometimes it is an apology.

Grace includes telling the truth

I also need to think carefully about what grace asks of me when something must be challenged.

In business and leadership, there are times when I need to say no, address poor performance or explain why a request cannot be accommodated. There may be a concern that requires action, even when raising it will be uncomfortable.

Avoiding those conversations can leave other people carrying the consequences.

I want to approach them with honesty and care. That means preparing, checking the facts and allowing the person to respond. It means choosing words that address the issue without attacking their dignity.

The way I use authority matters.

I can be clear about an expectation without humiliating someone. I can uphold a boundary without making the other person feel that they are beneath consideration. I can disagree and still listen.

I will not always manage this well. But I want it to remain part of how I examine my work before God.

Beyond the business sphere

This reflection reaches beyond my professional life.

It follows me into the shop, the waiting room, the conversation with a neighbour and the message I am tempted to send while irritated. It asks something of me in the places where nobody knows my title and nothing useful is likely to come back to me.

How do I treat the person serving me?

How do I respond when someone cannot give me what I want?

What do I say about another person when they are absent?

These encounters can feel small enough to escape reflection. Yet they are part of the same life.

I do not want to become attentive to my conduct only when I believe someone important is watching. The person I meet briefly deserves care too.

Perhaps that is one of the challenges of understanding our lives as a witness: it asks us to bring our faith into the ordinary places where we might otherwise move without much thought.

When I fall short

The thought that someone may encounter God’s goodness through my life could become a heavy pressure if I treated it as a demand to be flawless.

I know I will fall short.

There will be moments when my response is impatient, my judgment is incomplete or my conduct does not reflect what I believe. I need to be willing to recognise those moments without becoming occupied only with how they affect my image.

Someone may have been hurt. Something may need to be put right.

I can apologise without offering a long defence of myself. I can correct the information, revisit the decision or change the behaviour. I can receive feedback, even when it is uncomfortable.

That willingness matters too.

The grace I want others to encounter is grace I need myself. I depend on God’s forgiveness and on His continuing work in me. I want that dependence to make me more humble with people, more willing to learn and less eager to excuse my own failings.

A life that makes room for His goodness

I am grateful for the work entrusted to me.

I want to use my abilities well, but I also want to consider the experience people have while receiving what I offer. The service may be useful, yet the way I deliver it can add care or create hurt.

That is why this thought stays with me: someone’s encounter with me may influence what they understand about the God I love.

I cannot control every conclusion another person reaches. I can take responsibility for how I show up.

I can prepare carefully. Speak honestly. Listen with patience. Treat someone’s vulnerability with respect. Repair what I have damaged.

And I can ask God to keep shaping me in the places where I still struggle.

You may never grace a podium. Much of your service may happen quietly, through work that other people take for granted.

But there are people on the receiving end of your life.

Your work is a gift. May the way you offer it help someone experience His grace and goodness.

A prayer

Lord, thank You for the abilities and responsibilities You have entrusted to me.

Help me use them with care. Let my work be useful, my words honest and my manner attentive to the people before me.

Show me where impatience, pride or carelessness is shaping how I respond. Make me willing to apologise, receive correction and put things right.

In my work and in the ordinary encounters of my day, help me reflect something of Your grace and goodness. Keep me mindful that every person I meet matters to You.

Continue Your work in me as I offer what is in my hands. Amen.