I ofttimes wonder if the apostle Paul, when he was writing Romans 7:15 (“I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do”) paused and smiled to himself.
It’s not that there’s anything amusing in the verse itself or in the topic it discusses, namely the struggle a believer faces in wishing to live for Christ but frustrated in their effort to do so by the built-in insistance shared by all of us to remain stubbornly human. Rather, the cause for mild mirth would be looking at the verse and saying to oneself, “Gee. Sounds like the day job.”
Sometimes it’s overlooked that Paul had a day job: he was a journeyman tent maker. Given that tent making was hardly the most streamlined process in his day, no doubt there was many a moment when he was stitching or cutting or what have you when Paul thought, “You know, I’d rather be preaching right now. Or writing one of the churches a letter. Except Corinth. I’ve already had to rip them a new one twice. Enough of that already!”
Most all of us who believe — I suspect more like all of us — except for those in full-time ministry have had those moments at the office or the factory or the store or the farm or the classroom or wherever when we’ve sighed, “This bites. I want to be out ministering right now. Not shuffling papers or working machinery or stocking shelves or nursing the crop or trying to stay awake either listening to or giving a lecture.”
Which is a good thing, really.
To have a heart for God means you’re going to face times of frustration when you’re doing anything but something directly for Him. Yeah, sure, Colossians 3:23-24, with verse 22 thrown in for good measure as you contemplate your allowance… er, paycheck. But that doesn’t quench the fire.
So don’t.
Learn to savor every moment you’re able to directly minister. They are precious and never to be taken for granted.
And they give you something to look forward to while in the meantime you’re making tents.
