Tag - work

1
Employees are not for Employers
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A Fool’s Household
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Christ in our Coffee Shops

Employees are not for Employers

employees-01

Is it five o’clock yet?

How many of us have found ourselves muttering that question during our workday? The clock ticks on, bringing with it another fresh wave of problems to solve. We spend 8 hours a day away from our homes and families and find ourselves asking, “Why?”

Titus 2:9-10 reads,

Slaves are to be submissive to their masters in everything, and to be well-pleasing, not talking back or stealing, but demonstrating utter faithfulness, so that they  may adorn the teaching of God our Savior in everything.

Okay, so “slaves” is too strong a word for our context today. I am not held against my will and I am properly compensated for my work. But the general idea of “slaves” here is “worker.”

What are we as workers supposed to be?

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A Fool’s Household

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Every wise woman builds her house, but a foolish one tears it down with her own hands. – Proverbs 14:1

My house came pre-built. I didn’t have to pick up a hammer or hang dry wall. In fact, we decided against purchasing a “fixer upper” because neither my husband nor I am naturally gifted with handyman skills.

So how am I supposed to obey Scripture and build my house?

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Christ in our Coffee Shops

Cup of Coffee with box of cookies with title

Today’s blog was guest written by Jewel Evans. To read the Christ in Culture blog from the beginning, click here.

The alarm goes off at 5 am; Monday morning has arrived, like clockwork. It’s time to get up and get the shop open. I keep the lights low, allowing myself a few quiet moments before the NOW BREWING sign flashes brightly in the early morning light. In a little while, my coworker, Alicia, will show up and we will begin our day, serving cups of coffee and tea to the downtown crowd as they make their way into work.

There are moments in the day, especially in the early hours, that provide her and I ample opportunity to talk and catch up about our weekend happenings. My coworker is a nursing student, lives in the historic part of town, and is generally a sweet and enjoyable young woman. As we sip coffee together, our routine of months and months of Monday mornings spent together, she asks me this question: “Do you go to church every Sunday?” It caught me off guard. It took me a minute to respond, recalling just what I told her a moment ago.

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