Working at home

The thing about working from home is that no one else thinks you're working. (It might help if I dressed in nylons and heels instead of my stained foam-green cardigan.) So people call, or just show up, and all of them vaguely know you have a job but they each think they're the only interruption that day. Some of these people are your mother.

You can ignore the phone, even when it's yelling "I know you're in there!" But it's hard to ignore the knocks on the door, mostly because your car is parked in front, but also because you're not sure that God wants you to. You know, of course, that He commands hard work to support your family ("If anyone does not provide for his relatives, and especially for members of his household, he has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever" (1 Timothy 5:8).

But then there is "Seek first the kingdom," which is a broader mandate. I used to have my life cut out for me more when I managed the café. I liked bolting out the door and switching on autopilot for six hours a day, when I had no choices to make.

During winter holidays the problem is worse. So I pray every day for wisdom, and my friend David says that when I pray that I need to believe that I have received it (James 1) and that my moment-by-moment choices are wise ones. Praying and not expecting is unbelieving praying, David says.

It's not a bad thing, really, to be in total moment-to-moment dependence on God and not on autopilot. Not to mention: no rush hour traffic. How do people do that?