This is a fact: I love my work. I love what I get to do and the people with whom I get to do it. But sometimes I wonder if a stranger, someone who doesn’t know me, could tell that I love what I do simply from observing my behavior. I have a feeling that, more often than not, I walk around with a furrowed brow, intensity seeping out my pores. I hope that at least some of the time my face shows the joy that is inside, joy I feel at the privilege of being able to do what I love. I am afraid that many times I forget to allow this joy to spill out and create a puddle that splashes before my feet as I go about my daily rounds.

Earlier in the week I was confronted, and that’s how it felt, with a group of women who were clearly enjoying their work. They were enjoying it and they didn’t care who saw them! It is a tradition in my family that, when I am home, we drive out into the country to a wonderful bakery that is run by Amish and Mennonite families. This drive is so lovely and it always amazes me to see the line of cars and trucks headed to this place. The business plan didn’t include the ‘location, location, location’ theory. You clearly have to go off the beaten path to get to the neat, white structure built just to edge of one of the Amish farms. A gravel parking lot holds lines of motorized vehicles as the non-motorized horses, cows, donkeys and other animals look on in their bored and relaxed manner.

The bakery itself is also stocked with bulk food items you might find in any food co-op. Granola, oats, spices, sit near jars of jam, jellies, pickles and other vegetables. It is a rainbow of color placed on neatly organized shelves. When I arrive I just have to take a few minutes to let the beauty and creativity flow over me. It is a breath taking sight.

While people do purchase these bulk items, the main reason for the drive is the donuts. Raised, cake, filled, sugared. The very air itself is a sugary heaven. These donuts are circles and twists that literally melt in your mouth. They are made by a group of women, young and more mature, who are busy as bees in a kitchen that is visible to the paying customers. In their various colors of simple dresses, white aprons and bonnets covering their hair, they too create a rainbow as their hands fly fast and furious cutting, frying, and dipping these gems of confection.

And the laughter! Speaking in a mixture of English and a form of German, they were laughing, joking,their faces full of a joy that was contagious. I watched as they shared a comradarie we all long for, I believe, in our own work environments. They were doing the work they knew how to do, and do well, while also having the time of their lives. I wanted to jump the counter and join right in.

The work we do, whether paid or unpaid, is the stuff of our lives. How we spend our days and with whom we spend them is the ticket we use to go through the gate of our living. It can be mundane or miraculous, tedious or terrific, depending on how we approach it. Whether it is washing a floor or painting a portrait, the way we work is the way we spend our precious days. Something in this working pulls from gifts placed within us that are only ours to offer. From a perfectly crafted donut to an equally perfect plan for a building that will be built, we take what the Creator has sown within and offer it to the world.

This work we do is meant to bring joy, fulfillment, hope and even healing to the world. No work is too large or too small for this. The One who breathed us into being, after all, is also the Creator of both ant and elephant, crocus and towering mountains. Why should we be anything more, anything less?

How will you find the joy in the work that has been prepared for your hands and heart today? May the Holy One bless both the workers and the work this day and every day. May we all find sweetness in the gift of work.