Does God Understand Life in a Cubicle?

Or, for that matter, does God understand what’s going on in the life of a road warrior sales person? Or life on a clanging, banging, push, push, push assembly line? Or on an oil rig? As part of a building crew?

To tell the truth, the God of our Sunday School days kind of comes across as a part ...Or, for that matter, does God understand what’s going on in the life of a road warrior sales person? Or life on a clanging, banging, push, push, push assembly line? Or on an oil rig? As part of a building crew?

To tell the truth, the God of our Sunday School days kind of comes across as a part of history, not of today. Does the Big Guy High in the Sky even have a clue about what we’re going through?

Well, yes. God is the God of yesterday, today and tomorrow–and he’s comfortable in any era. He’s at least as cool as you are–which thought should put your ego where it ought to be.

Well, okay, but what does that mean when the guy in the next cubicle steals my idea and gets all kinds of praise from the boss? Does God think that’s fair? And what am I supposed to do when what I feel like doing is choking the jerk?

And when I go to church, how come the sermon’s about forgiving people who don’t deserve it? Or about how God rewards his people when I can’t see that that’s what’s happening? Or when the preacher thinks he’s Charlie Cool and leers as he talks about lots of sex to improve my marriage? I thought a good marriage was about respect, honor, faithfulness and integrity. What happened to that idea?

Besides, what does any of it have to do with the guy in the next cubicle who steals my ideas? Keeping the home fires burning would be a whole lot easier if I had some answers about being all God intended me to be in situations that could short-circuit a saint.

Well, let me give you a few things to mull over. Jesus put two things front and center: Loving God and loving your neighbor as yourself. That was right after he said, “In this world you will have trouble,” which pretty much tells you life won’t be a cakewalk.

So let’s parse it out. Loving God means realizing he’s God, and you’re not. He’s in charge of the universe; you’re in charge of what you do in his universe. Does that mean I’m responsible for what I do at work, with my money, in my relationships and all that? As the flappers used to say, you guessed ‘er, Chester.

You put God first, and he’ll take you places, teach you good stuff and make life whole. It’s a sweet deal.

Then there’s that part about loving your neighbor. Notice that it’s tied to loving yourself, which most of us don’t do very well. But as we learn to love God, he teaches us how to love ourselves–which is pretty much the only way to learn it.

And here’s the kicker: Once we love God and love ourselves, loving other people isn’t a big deal. Now I don’t mean huggy-kissy love, but valuing and respecting people. Even the guy in the next cubicle. Not that you’ll celebrate his stealing your ideas, but that you’ll have a handle on how to fix the problem in a way that makes God smile. God frowns on unfair dealings, so he’ll smile when you work it out.

Like most of life, you won’t be very good at first. But babies really stink when they first learn to walk, the trick being that they never give up. And, except for moments of crashing and burning, they’re smiling all the way. Go thou and do likewise.