Please refrain from throwing the rocks you are holding in your hands. I, too, fantasize about having uninterrupted hours alone in a mountain cabin (like the one pictured here) where I can think, write, rest, and write some more for days on end. But I live in the reality of a material world where a pay check is more than just handy. Then, today I had an interesting thought: I might not quit my job even if I could.

The thought is theoretical, of course. I see no immediate danger of having to make the decision. It was comforting, though, to realize I like my 
job. Of course, it helps a lot that I work with my husband in a rural medical practice we’ve been dreaming about since our first date 36 years ago. As Serenity pointed out, I do still have a serious crush on the man. But, with good reason. I mean, I saw him bring a man back to life a couple of  weeks ago. It wasn’t the same as Jesus raising Lazarus after three days. But the man was dead. Not just mostly dead — Miracle Max could not have helped this man. He was sitting in our office, and his heart stopped. His breath stopped. He expired.
And my husband knew exactly what to do to give him every possible hope of a second chance. It was amazing. Terrifying and not-exactly-pretty, but amazing. Today that dead man walked into our office and complained that his chest is hurting from the CPR and the shocker paddles. I wanted to shout “Hallelujah! You lived to complain another day!!!”
Most of our days are not nearly that exciting, and sometimes not nearly that happy. Yet, I find myself waking up eager to go to the office. (almost every day) I know that is a blessing, and I’m trying not to take it for granted.
I’d still like to have long hours to contemplate and create. In the meantime, I’m grateful for a job I like. In fact, in today’s economy, I’m grateful for a job at all.