When a Job Becomes a Calling
Two bricklayers were once asked what they were doing.
One said, “I’m laying bricks.”
The other said, “I’m building a cathedral.”
Same task. Different vision.
That little story captures something most of us wrestle with. We work hard, try to do good work, and still wonder why fulfillment sometimes slips through our fingers. We confuse the work that earns a paycheck with the work that shapes a purpose.
A job is what we do. A career becomes the public version of that story. But a calling—that’s why we do it. The Bible tells us that we were made for more than survival. Work was never a punishment. It was part of the design. Before the first complaint, there was a garden and a gardener, and a purpose woven into both.
I watched that truth play out in my father’s life. He spent decades as a small-town banker. When promotions slowed and younger managers started passing him by, frustration set in. He retired early, calling it “time to step aside.” But the truth was, his world had changed. The job he’d given his best years to no longer defined him.
Yet even near the end, when the phone rang, he’d answer with his trademark, “Yellow, can I help you?” He carried dignity even as his circle narrowed. By the world’s scoreboard, he finished small. But to those who got their first loan or steadied fragile finances through his counsel, he was solid ground.
That’s when I began to understand: calling isn’t about the size of the platform. It’s about the posture of the heart.
Scripture tells us that God calls us first to Himself, then to the work He places in our hands. The order matters. Get it backward, and the job becomes an idol. But when we understand who we belong to, what we do starts to carry meaning that no job title can replace.
Most people don’t recognize calling all at once. It doesn’t arrive in a lightning bolt. It surfaces slowly—usually where joy meets need. If someone asked, “How do I find my gifts?” I’d tell them to pay attention to what people thank them for. What problems do you solve naturally? Where do others turn when things start to unravel? Those are signposts.
Gifts rarely shout. They whisper through repetition. Stay faithful in small things, and calling will grow roots. A farmer doesn’t find his field by staring at the horizon. He plants where he stands and watches what grows.
That’s what calling looks like. The virtues that built trust in one season—integrity, patience, humility—build strength in another. The setting changes, but the purpose doesn’t.
Work becomes calling when service outweighs status. When the question shifts from “How far can I go?” to “Who can I help?” The Bible reminds us that whatever we do, we’re to do it with all our heart, not for applause or approval, but as an offering.
Maybe purpose isn’t something we find at the next job, but something we rediscover in the one already in our hands.
If calling helps us see the purpose behind our work, motivation shapes the heart within it. Join me next time in the Work Matters series as we talk about the difference between drive and devotion — and what happens when ambition finds direction.
I’ll be sharing more reflections like this on work, calling, and leadership. If you’d like to follow along, the best way is to connect with and follow me on LinkedIn.
