It is not good for me to get too close to my work, lest I become obsessive about it. I was virtually a workaholic in college, but without the “high” which true workaholics find. In my case, I worked hard to make the grades for graduate school, and I worked with blinders on. My mind was numbed by the hard work, my personality warped.
Now I listen to my nocturnal dreams. A couple of nights of bad dreams, and I know it is time to “let up.” God doesn’t need drudges. He can’t get through to them and therefore to what purpose does all the hard work serve?
A personal assessment made on the anniversary of my first year as a reference librarian: “I jumped on a horse and tried to gallop off in all directions at once.”
Certainly I took on too many varied responsibilities that year, but beginner’s enthusiasm is a great propellant. It was a hard year. Now, 11 years later, I find in the experience compelling reason to ride out the storm. The first hard step is not a good indicator of all the joy that may follow. When you step into a pool, the water is always at first quite cold.