Labor days

One of the worst ordinary feelings is the dread that comes when a weekend ends.

I have been working in my job for almost two months, and I can honestly say that I very much like what I do. I take pride in being able to check tasks off my list, in being able to help others find work as part of my job. I actually take pleasure in the drama of making it through a tricky situation having learned or accomplished something. I appreciate and enjoy the people I work with. And I am grateful for merely being employed in the first place.

So why the pit in my stomach come Sunday night (or in today’s case, Monday?). It’s not like I did nothing with my holiday weekend. I went to a friend’s housewarming party, I spent a day at the beach with my roommate, I wandered around Brooklyn with my charming boyfriend, I went to a lovely church service and watched a movie and played Mario Kart with friends and started outlining a novel and read in the cool shade of the park. And it’s not like tomorrow–with its answering phones and writing emails and creating invoices and making money so that I can eat, pay rent, and do nice things on the weekend–will be so much worse or different.

Perhaps it’s the reminder that I am not in complete control of my life that’s the problem. Time is limited; I have only so much I can do. I suppose that realization prompts two main reactions: mope and wish life was a perpetual amusement park designed to thrill me constantly (my reaction), or seize the day and make the most of the opportunities and people I am privileged to have in my life.

This may seem like a non-sequitur, but this malaise of mine reminds me of one of my favorite biblical passages, from Ezekiel 37. The prophet Ezekiel is wandering around the desert and comes across a valley of dry bones. What happens is quite epic.

The hand of the Lord was upon me, and he brought me out in the Spirit of the Lord and set me down in the middle of the valley; it was full of bones. And he led me around among them, and behold, there were very many on the surface of the valley, and behold, they were very dry. And he said to me, “Son of man, can these bones live?” And I answered, “O Lord God, you know.” Then he said to me, “Prophesy over these bones, and say to them, O dry bones, hear the word of the Lord. Thus says the Lord God to these bones: Behold, I will cause breath to enter you, and you shall live. And I will lay sinews upon you, and will cause flesh to come upon you, and cover you with skin, and put breath in you, and you shall live, and you shall know that I am the Lord.”

….

So I prophesied as he commanded me, and the breath came into them, and they lived and stood on their feet, an exceedingly great army.

Maybe all we need is some fresh breath in our lungs to face the beginning of a new week. A little bit goes a long way.

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