Work isn’t always a word that brings joy. For many, it means long hours, frustration, or exhaustion. But from the start, before sin or struggle entered the world, God created work as something good. Genesis 2:15 tells us, “The LORD God took the man and put him in the garden of Eden to work it and keep it.”
That one verse reveals a beautiful truth: humanity was created for purpose. We were designed to cultivate, to create, and to care for what God made. Work was never meant to be a punishment—it was a gift, a calling woven into the fabric of creation.
I recently read about a 20-year-old man named James Clarkson who won a massive lottery in the UK. You’d think he’d retire immediately—but instead, he went right back to work the next week. When asked why, he said, “I need to have a purpose in life.” That longing for purpose is no accident. It’s part of the image of God within us.
When I read Genesis 2, I notice something powerful: the name for God changes. In Genesis 1, He’s called Elohim, the mighty Creator. But in Genesis 2, He’s Yahweh Elohim—the LORD God. He’s personal, relational, and intimate.
It’s the picture of a God who doesn’t just speak creation into existence but forms humanity from the dust and breathes His own life into us. Then He gives Adam a task: to work and keep the garden. From that moment, work became a way to partner with God in sustaining and cultivating creation.
Work is not beneath God—it’s something He Himself does. When we work—whether teaching, leading, building, designing, or serving—we reflect His creativity and care.
It’s striking that the first thing God calls “not good” in the Bible isn’t sin—it’s isolation. “It is not good that the man should be alone,” He says in Genesis 2:18. So God makes Eve, not as an assistant, but as a partner. The Hebrew word ezer—translated “helper”—is the same word used to describe God as our help.
From the beginning, work was meant to be shared. We were designed to labor, create, and problem-solve together. Whether it’s in marriage, family, church, or community, collaboration isn’t just practical—it’s spiritual.
God could have made a finished, self-sustaining world. Instead, He left room for us to join Him in the process. He filled the earth with potential and invited us to help it flourish.
That’s why there’s such joy in creating something—whether it’s cultivating a garden, writing a song, building a home, or nurturing a child. It’s an echo of Eden. The writer of Ecclesiastes reminds us, “There is nothing better… than to be joyful and to do good as long as they live; also that everyone should eat and drink and take pleasure in all his toil—this is God’s gift to man” (Ecclesiastes 3:12–13).
Our work brings God joy, and it’s meant to bring us joy too.
Even in the garden, Adam and Eve were dependent on God’s provision. He gave them every tree and plant they needed for life. That hasn’t changed.
When my wife, Luvy Ann, was finishing her teaching degree, we lost her income for a time. It was a stretch, and we had to trust God’s provision in new ways. I’ll never forget finding an anonymous envelope in my church mailbox one day—it held a generous gift and a note that said, “I hope this blesses you.” That act was God’s provision to us.
We may work with our hands, but it’s His hand that sustains us.
Work is good—but it’s not everything. After six days of creation, God rested. Not because He needed to, but because He wanted to model the rhythm of work and rest for us.
The Sabbath is a reminder that we are not defined by our productivity. Theologian Walter Brueggemann wrote, “Sabbath provides a visible testimony that God is at the center of life.” Rest declares that we trust God to hold the world together, even when we stop working.
When we understand work the way God intended, it becomes worship. Every act of faithfulness—whether on the job, in the classroom, or at home—is an offering to Him.
Peter calls believers “a royal priesthood” (1 Peter 2:9). That means every Christian is called to serve God in sacred ways, not just on Sunday but in everyday life. Our labor, when done in love and faith, becomes an act of priestly service in God’s world.
From the very start, God created humanity to work—not as drudgery, but as divine participation in His ongoing creation. When we work with purpose, share the load with others, rest within His limits, and trust His provision, our labor becomes something far greater than a paycheck—it becomes a reflection of His glory.
We were made to work. But even more, we were made to work with God.