Recently while talking about my job, a friend said something about the gravity of it—handling the Word of God, editing the words of teachers who influence millions around the globe. The gravity, the heaviness, the privilege of this work hits me every so often. I have to admit, not every day. Some days, I come in and like a scientist or a scholar look at the Bible and dissect it. I wax poetically about dashes and commas and ellipses. But the Word of God is living and active and some days I realize the gravity of that. I pray over my work. I give thanks for my work. I nearly come to tears thinking of the heaviness of this privilege.
Beth Moore once said, “You can know that you may be in the right place if it is beyond what you can do because that is where the all surpassing power of God is shown. And it’s of Him, not of us.”
This job, this work, is beyond what I can do. Not just because I have seemingly ten new deadlines every day. Not just because I may or may not have failed Greek class once or twice. Because Scripture is holy, it is the primary means by which our God—the God of the heavens and the earth—tells us about Himself. It convicts, it encourages, it challenges, it distributes hope. The Word of God reminds us of the faithfulness of God. Properly handling that sacred text? It is beyond what I can do.
So maybe, just maybe, I’m in the right place. Even if that right place is almost 9pm in a cubicle.