How to Do Faithful Work at a Thankless Job
“I can’t wait to go hometown okay,” moaned my colleague.
She and I had just spent two hectic hours taking orders from waves of difficult customers. We worked the drive-thru at a local fast food restaurant, sizzling in the heat like the tenderloins in the kitchen. One of our jobs was to direct through traffic to flow safely and orderly, much like a shepherd tending a flock of sheep (which gives me a pretty amusing picture of how the Lord must be feeling when he’s with bypasses us ).
The driver of the last car who blamed us personally for running out of sprite had just rolled over to the window and spat expletives behind him.
service in the service industry
This experience is not unique. I’ve worked in the service industry for almost five years – since I was 15 – at previous employers including a sandwich shop and a minor league stadium.
In the service industry, people are both the best and the worst part of the job.
There have been days when the second I walk to work, I want to go. My co-workers and I are yelled at, disregarded and treated only as vessels to grant wishes. Not many people even look at us, let alone into our eyes. You’d be amazed how few treat us as if we were human – I always like to say that humans are both the best and the worst part of work.
It’s monotonous, exhausting and not for the faint of heart. People who work here often fall into two categories: they’re here as a last resort, or they’re floating here until “something better” shows up and lures them away.
content under all circumstances
However, I am content to work in the service industry for the rest of my life.
“Whatever you do, do it to the glory of God,” says 1 Corinthians 10:31. I don’t see the service industry as a drudgery, but as a golden opportunity to serve countless people. When I despise the job that God has given me, I snub it and tell him I’m too good for it. This is pure arrogance.
I don’t see the service industry as a drudgery, but as a golden opportunity to serve countless people.
Every assignment I have is a God-given opportunity to glorify Him by ministering to the people who come through the door, and that’s an honor—just like it would be to preach the gospel in the jungle. It’s an honor to clear tables so the next diners can enjoy a meal without wallowing in the chaos of previous customers. It’s an honor to carry an overwhelmed mother’s order to her table so she can lock up her children. It’s an honor to balance complaints with empathy when we realize we were wrong and just caused someone extra trouble.
Sometimes I have to grit my teeth and remember all of this. Other times I completely forget. But the truth remains: God does not classify our work into primarily glorifying, somewhat glorifying, and not glorifying at all. we are those who use these categories contrary to his word. Every professional purpose he gives his people is important to him – including the service industry.
faithful work
It’s still so easy to fall into despair. How can these small actions in an insignificant restaurant put even a dent in the darkness gathering in every corner of the world, especially when no one seems to notice or appreciate your efforts?
Paul has an answer for us: “In the Lord your labor will not be in vain” (1 Corinthians 15:58). Note that He does not promise that we will feel this fact, nor even that we will see the fruits of our labor. Tim Keller puts this verse well: “If the God of the Bible exists . . . then every good effort, even the simplest, pursued in answer to God’s call can forever matter.”
It is not our place to tell the Lord which branch will produce the most fruit, and then direct Him to put us there immediately—indeed, as 1 Corinthians 10:31 also tells us, if the goal of our work is to get results, then we’ve completely missed the point. No, let’s not be like Thomas who needed visible proof to believe (John 20:24-25). The Lord has said that whatever work we do in response to God’s calling will be fruitful, and we must have faith in it regardless of whether we see it happening on this side of eternity.
“I can’t wait to go hometown okay,” moaned my colleague. She and I watched the new line that was forming, full of people who were crabby and hungry after their day’s work was done. My colleague looked annoyed. I understood their exhaustion, but at the same time I felt a wave of compassion for the customers. This was probably the worst possible time to go home. We were busy.