Work is my Prayer

I ache all over. But it was a job that had to be done. The dog is old and grouchy, too old and grouchy to go to the goomers. So, I had to do it. Somebody had to do it.


While I don't look as bad as the woman in the illustration (by the way, I think the dog was supposed to be a Ninja Turtle), I feel like I look like her.


I'm not set up to groom animals. I have to do it outside or in a corner of the basement with little light and a concrete floor. I should have chosen outside. But it's too late now.


I feel as old as my dog. He's something like 70 in dog years. But he's forgiven me. Sleeping at my feet even as I write this blog post.


But, there is one good thing about it - okay, maybe two.


First, work can be converted into prayer. I choose for all of this to be a prayer, as efficacious as if I were on my knees. May God do something wonderful with my little contribution.


Second good thing? Very soon it will be the Lord's Day. I try not to do anything that could be considered true work on Sunday. And I'm going to need that day of rest. . . and maybe a bunch of ibuprofen to go with it.


What job do you have to offer today? Let it be a prayer.

Work is my Prayer