An Eternal Perspective On Work
"Be fruitful" were the first words Adam heard. From that first instruction, we have understood that work is important; yet, since the arrival of sin, we've struggled to give it its intended place. Considering our world's never-ending discussion around work/life balance, the problem is evident. Last week, two conversations caused me to reflect on work and reminded me of the importance of keeping an eternal perspective about it.
The first conversation happened over Discord, where someone messaged me asking for links to my games on the Google Play Store. They wanted to support me but needed help finding my games. It was a very kind gesture, and the request should have been simple; I've released over a dozen games to the store in the past thirteen years. Nevertheless, do you know how many games are currently available? Zero.
Strange as it may sound, there are three reasons for my games' absence. First, I've used different engines over my career, and some of these engines no longer exist—at least not in a state viable for publishing. The second reason is that mobile games must comply with the store's ever-changing requirements. If you fail to update your titles to maintain compliance, they are removed, which was the fate of my games. It's a fair policy, but once a title's sales have long-tailed to almost nothing, it's hard to justify the effort required to maintain them. The third reason is something called "software rot." You would think digital things would be safe from the effects of rot, but that is not the case. When you release software, your work freezes in time, but the software world keeps moving forward—APIs change, systems update, new systems are added, and other systems deprecate—and the longer you wait to update, the more effort is required. Sadly, these factors led me to explain to the individual that none of my games were available for purchase.
The second conversation was with a dear brother who helped me create most of the games mentioned prior. He has been out of the games industry for a few years; he left in search of increased stability for his family and hopes of working on something with greater permanence than games. Unfortunately, he shared that the company he had been working for was on its last leg, and he was let go. He's a brilliant engineer, and in the three years he served as their lead, he built a whole suite of apps. He worked hard and did all he could to ensure the company's success from the technology side.
Nevertheless, the company had to pivot because of market realities. Tragically all of the hard work that my friend had done—three years of work—would not be released. I listened, heartbroken for my friend.
When you have moments in your life where all your hard work comes to nothing, it's tempting to despair. Even someone as great as Solomon was susceptible to it. He wrote in Ecclesiastes 2:11, "I considered all that my hands had done and the toil I had spent in doing it, and again, all was vanity and a chasing after the wind." He even gave into the despair for a time: "So I turned about and gave my heart up to despair over all the toil of my labors under the sun."
One time in college, I was in despair, and my bible professor said something profound. He said, "You know, it's all going to burn someday." That got my attention. He explained that it doesn't mean things aren't important, but we have to see the things in our lives through an eternal lens. "It's all going to burn." I've had to remind myself of this countless times over the years. I get a certain comfort and peace in that truth. It's freeing.
As I approach the midpoint of my career, I have experienced some successes and failures, and my thoughts about my work have become more straightforward. Today, I will do the work that is mine. I will do the best job I can with the tools available to me. I can't compare myself with what others are doing because God has given them different tasks and resources. No, I must do my work to add goodness, beauty, and truth where I can and trust God with the outcome. And as this world slowly passes away, that great refining fire will one day reveal the things of eternal value.
