We don’t know the value of what we do. We can’t always see why God wants us to be doing these things, so we want to negotiate with Him. Lord, couldn’t you think of something better for me to do? Or worse, rather that complain to God, asking for Him to answer us, we complain to others.
We fuss at the children for being what they can’t help being.
We get dreamy to our [spouses], explaining yet again how repetitive our lives are.
We make fun of our jobs to ourselves and to others.
We belittle our work,
We make much of the mindlessness of it,
And, not surprisingly, we then lose interest in it.
But imagine we could switch this attitude into a situation where we understand the value of repetition. Imagine we could see a young girl at the piano, practicing scales with a word class teacher. Imagine that instead of seeing that she was being taught the fundamentals of something amazing, she was mocking it.
Imagine she was complaining and moaning and drooping.
Imagine she wouldn’t try them.
Imagine she was hollering to anyone close enough about how unfulfilling and demeaning this work was, Or just sighing to herself continuously.
Imagine that she used as her main argument that she was above this kind of fiddly work because she was meant to be a concert pianist.
I would hope that we would all see the foolishness of this kind of attitude. Feeling above it all is simply a way of showing that it is actually above you.
We have far more than musical skills to gain by cheerfully practicing the scales that God asks us to do. He uses things like this to train us for other things. We wants to see us perfecting the work we are given, cheerfully and willingly practicing when we do not see all the value.
-Rachel Jankovic, Fit to Burst: Abundance, Mayhem, and the Joys of Motherhood (Cannon Press, 2012), 41-42.