“And you don’t work, right Laura?”

Someone asked me this immediately after talking with my husband about his job. Chris is the vice-president of supply chain for the U.S. division of a large global company. His work impacts lots of people, things, and money. The only thing worse than being asked this question by someone who was obviously impressed with my husband? Her look of disinterested confusion when I told her I was in ministry.

I’ve seen that look before. When I was a high school teacher, people enthusiastically asked me about my job. Those conversations dwindled when I became a stay-at-home-mom and almost died completely when I became a Christian speaker and author.

I know I shouldn’t care. Chris often reminds me my work changes lives. By God’s grace, I’ve been able to disciple women struggling in their faith, with crippling anxiety, and in painful relationships. Recently the Lord used one of my talks to help a woman who was contemplating suicide after two years of debilitating pain from a broken back. I love what I do and couldn’t imagine doing anything else.

But sometimes the blank stares bother me. Sometimes, I want to burn my W-2 form before Chris sees it. Sometimes I know what I do impacts lives, but what I really want is someone to be impressed by me and what I do.

Isn’t it enough to be a child of God? To be loved by Jesus? To know I’m delighted in and danced over by the One who made the sun rise this morning?


But in those times when it’s not, the lover of my insecure soul knows. He cares about my petty and sophomoric desires. He knows when hollow stares feel dismissive and hurtful. And through His Word, in community, and by His Spirit, He reminds me I love what I do and couldn’t imagine doing anything else. And He helps me trust that the One who made the sun rise this morning dances over and delights in me,

All the time.