Work ≠ Worth

My idolatry of work started early, long before my labor produced a paycheck and money added to that golden calf’s allure. In high school, I stayed up late most nights hunched over the desk in my childhood bedroom, seeking perfection in every assignment and worrying about the deadlines that loomed that week. My parents were loving and supportive, but the world around me seemed to prioritize academic and career achievement above much else in life. It’s sneaky, isn’t it? How deeply engrained and normalized our work-as-worth ethos is, even in that seemingly innocent, go-to question that is often one of the first things we ask each other: “What do you do for work?” 

By my mid-twenties, I was an anxious mess. I was working long hours, striving for perfection in everything, and prioritizing work and my career above everything else in my life. I didn’t know how to turn from that golden calf’s altar. I didn’t even realize I was worshipping a false god at all. Through some combination of my own nature and the world’s nurture, I was vulnerable to the workaholic, perfectionism pattern of living, seeking refuge in gods that cannot deliver what they promise. For many years, I was blind to this pattern. Left to my own devices, my life would probably look very different than it does today. But by God’s mercy, He has steadily shown me glimpses of the truth that my worth is in His love – not in what I produce, how much money I make, or how much prestige comes along with my job title or degrees. 

Chiseling Away My Idol of Work

The first chink in that golden calf’s glossy finish started with a whitewater canoeing class I signed up for in college (in Texas, of all the unlikely places!), which eventually led me to a lovely, non-traditional season for a standard type-A perfectionist like myself as a raft guide in Western North Carolina. In choosing this path less focused on my career, I found rest for my soul in days spent outdoors. I also met my now-husband, whose ability to keep work within its boundaries has always amazed me. With both his words and the way he lives, he reminds me I am more than the work I produce.

After a dreamy summer falling in love and spending time in God’s incredible creation, we returned to the hustle of grad school and life in a big city. As time passed and my responsibilities at work increased, I found myself at the office longer and longer. When I was home, I couldn’t take my mind off work to be present with my husband, family, and friends. I tried and failed to carve out space in my daily life to commune with God. To be clear, I don’t believe pursuing training and building a meaningful career is by-nature an idol. Many people channel their professional lives into incredible acts of service to God and their community. I am truly grateful for my education and the career I’ve been able to participate in. My stumbling block was placing my security, identity, and hope in that career. 

After a few years of feeling stuck in this rut, my husband and I made a leap of faith and moved to Chattanooga, Tennessee. We sought a slower pace of life, more time with our community, and quicker access to the wild, image-bearing natural world we craved. We then had our son, and all of life’s rhythms and priorities shifted, dulling the shine of my idol of work more than anything else has.

Redeeming My Definition of Work

Even after these seasons of progressive release of my golden calf, much work remains for God to do in my heart. I worry often about whether my job is impactful enough, if I’m performing it well enough, if others think I am competent enough, or if my paycheck is enough. I find myself sub-consciously believing that if I perform perfectly in my current role, or if I find the next “better” job, I will feel secure, valued, and loved. Money and financial security are certainly a piece of my idolatry of work. But for me, the roots are unfortunately deeper, closer to my soul’s bedrock – I very easily fall prey to seeking my value in the perception of others. 

However, God in His mercy has continually lifted my eyes from my inbox to remind me that all “work” matters and has re-shaped my priorities in the ways necessary to truly know, love, and serve Him. God has slowly but surely been redeeming my definition of work, helping me believe that making our family a healthy meal to enjoy together, or reading my son his favorite book for the fifth time today, is just as important to my Father as responding immediately to those emails. Through my life’s winding paths, Jesus has reminded me to turn from the things that feel necessary for my security – approval, money, perfection – to Him. To meet Him in my daily moments, to be present with those I love, and to practice believing that what matters more than my title or upward trajectory is joining Him in His kingdom work right where I am. This kingdom work absolutely involves my work for pay, but it also involves the many other vocations in my life like being a mother, a spouse, and a friend.

I currently still work full time, but I often dream of longer days with my son while he’s still young to soak in his sweetness. Even the presence of such a dream is evidence of light shining through the cracks God breaks in the false gods that keep us in the dark. I wonder how else I can remove hurry from my life, rejecting the compulsion to always be “caught up” in earning my worth instead of spending that energy on loving God and loving others. I still work late some days, or I log off and fail to be present with my family if my mind is stuck in some work-related tension. But many days, I log off on time and play with my son, go for a run or a bike ride, or get a coffee with one of my dear friends in our beautiful city. We talk about big and small things, and we create space to be formed in God’s image together. I practice trusting that this precious time in my other vocations is at least as important as the never-ending to-do list for my job. 

In Psalm 16, I am reminded that the Lord “has assigned my portion and my cup; [He] has made my lot secure. The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely I have a delightful inheritance” (v. 5-6, NIV). I am limited in time, talent, strength, and many other ways, and that is okay. In fact, it’s a gift that reminds me to turn to my Father for my security, and not to the work of my own hands or the approval of others. My limits are pleasant not because I can finagle them to fall in areas I’m comfortable with, but because my anchor, my worth, and my value are secure in my God. I and every person I meet are loved more deeply than I can imagine, so I don’t have to earn it with perfection or titles or hustle. I am unable to do it all, but I can show up, do my best, care for others and God in my work, and then respect where the boundary lines have fallen, closing my laptop to be present with my loved ones. 

A wise soul once said, and a dear friend reminds me often, that spiritual formation is the slowest of all human movements (James Houston). My journey to release the golden calf of work and turn to Jesus has certainly been slow. Praise God for His mercy. But as the seasons come and go, I am increasingly aware of how precious time is. My son won’t be squawking for more quartered grapes from his highchair for much longer. Before I know it, he’ll be making his own snack, and then eventually, he won’t need me for much in the way of daily life tasks at all. That friend going through a hard season needs a hug and my full presence today, not tomorrow. We’re not guaranteed a tomorrow, so I need to hold my husband tight, revel in the gift that he is to me, and listen to him tell me about his day.

Guideposts for Refocusing on God

Everyone’s story is unique, so I can’t reasonably suggest that anyone struggling with idolizing their work sign up for a whitewater canoeing class. However, there are a few habits that have become guideposts for me in this journey: 

1. I often return to a series of questions which shed light on and reorient the state of my heart when I’m tempted to turn to other gods:
   • Am I striving in this moment for approval, money, or security from my job, or to seek first the Kingdom and trust that all else will be provided?
   • How much money do we really need to live a fulfilled, Kingdom-centered life?
   • If we need less money than we make now, does that free up more time for other types of work and service? 
2. I seek and find God’s presence in the natural world. Even the briefest walk or moment in my backyard reorients my soul to my Creator and my tiny place in the vast, incredible work of His hands. I find that God is so near when I step outside. He uses the natural world time and again to re-align my life’s direction towards Him.
3. I examine and ask whether the thing I’m afraid to do is not exactly the thing God has for me. I have found that the decisions in my life I was most afraid of were, by far, the most beautiful and faith building (setting off down that first river in a canoe, moving to Chattanooga, having our son). When I feel a knee-jerk response of fear, I pause and reflect. Sometimes the best thing for us is not the most productive thing. On my good days, I try to lean into this tension.

In our modern culture of hustle, achievement, and status, and especially for any dear sisters and brothers who, like myself, find themselves prone to that ‘productivity as worth’ mindset, I pray that we as God’s children can model a different way. A way that prioritizes God’s work – to love Him and love our neighbors – in all of the hours we are given. The ones we spend earning income, serving our families, friends and communities, and enjoying the breath in our lungs and the birds in the sky. Seeking my refuge in my Father, practicing believing, “apart from you, I have no good thing” (Psalm 16:2), has been and will be the most important work of my life.

Written by Fay Willis