People ask me why I don’t write for a living. I tell them I do. They say, “So where do you publish?” I say, “Online”. They say, “But for what company?” I say, “No company. I work for God.” And then they give me one of those looks (you know the one I’m talking about) and the conversation ends.
I’m happy to work only for God. He’s my agent, and the pay is amazing. I’m the happiest person I know. I’m free in mind and spirit. I pick my hours and my time off. I’m never alone and never lack for loving companionship. I have plenty of good food, and my rent is always paid. I have enough money to travel wherever and whenever I want. I never lack for anything. In short, I would never write for anyone but God.
When you work for God, that’s what happens – you have an amazing outlook and an amazing life. People may not see it that way; I’m sure some people see me as a crazy religious freak or a lonely old maid, but I’m fine with that. I could care less what people think of me. That’s one of the freedoms that come with working for God: you don’t care what people think anymore. You don’t get angry with them for dissing you; you just don’t care. And then you say a prayer in passing for them, and that’s that.
Sometimes I get so overwhelmed with my blessings, I get butterflies in my stomach, just like I used to get on the first day of school. I loved the first day of school (I can still smell that heady scent of leather satchels and fresh-picked apples). It was always so exciting for me. Working for God gives me that same excitement, almost like being in love. No other job has ever made me feel this way. I know it’s the presence of God’s spirit, both informing and blessing my words.
I can never imagine retiring from this job. I want to keep working for God until I drop dead. I hope I can. My grandmother used to say: “The Good Lord provides.” She was bang on. She was also a happy person. She, too, worked for God. She didn’t write; she did other things. And she kept working right up to her dying breath.
That’s the way it should be when you work for God. You know you’re in the right job because you never want to stop working. You can’t conceive of not working, even on your deathbed; working and living are the same in your mind. That’s how you know you’re working for God.