Restless in Christ

God of peace, who has taught us that in returning and rest we will be saved, in quietness and confidence will be our strength: By the might of your Spirit lift us, we pray, to your presence, where we may be still and know that you are God; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. -- Prayer for Quiet Confidence, Book of Common Prayer

It's a restless season. A large flock of robins has been bivouaced in my back yard for the past couple of days, foraging like there's no tomorrow. Geese-arrows fly over the lake, and swirls of gray seagulls hover over harvested fields. I've had to hit the brakes almost every morning for dithering whitetails -- making a run for the other side of the road, then stopping in mid-sprint and skittering back into the brush.

Last spring I bought a book called Restless in Christ; maybe I should start reading it, because that's how I feel these days -- like a deer wavering at the roadside. Where do I go? What do I do? What happens if I move forward? What happens if I don't?

Today at work I definitely felt the urge to flee for more promising fields. It all started earlier in the morning, when I was scrolling through a couple of Christian discussion forums I enjoy -- forums where people are usually just talking about their lives or asking sincere questions, not beating one another over the head -- and was able to help a couple of inquirers. The words just seemed to flow from the keyboard. It felt good; I was happy with what I'd written, and hoped that it would be of use to the original posters. But then at work I sat at my desk staring into a day of tasks that I knew would bring me no sense of accomplishment, including a boring, pedantic PowerPoint presentation for a wheel-spinning work team I'm on that I don't want to be on -- and I hate even watching PowerPoint presentations, let alone creating them.

Most of the time I enjoy my job -- I'm just a small cog in the wheel, but I've always thought of myself as being a useful and creative cog -- but today it all felt so pointless. (Or, more accurately, PowerPointless.) The things that really bring me joy, that truly engage my mind and soul, that make me feel like I'm doing something in the world that matters -- most of them happen outside the scope of my day job. And even on my job, some of the tasks I enjoy the most are other people's jobs; for instance, doing what I call practicing social work without a license -- helping callers, some of them very confused or frustrated -- while my colleagues are out of the office. I feel guilty for feeling this dissatisfaction: What is wrong with you? How many people would love your job...or any job? I think about my father, a guy whose dad pulled him out of school in the 8th grade, who never had a job he enjoyed and who once told me, somewhat wistfully, "I never expected to like a job. You just do a job."

The Spirit may be moving, but she's moving in a disconcerting, dislocating way for me these days. I'm ready to be "lifted up," as the Prayer for Quiet Confidence puts it.