I had been so excited and amped to charge ahead when I graduated from seminary.
I had trained for 3 years at the prestigious Fuller Theological Seminary—Hebrew, Greek, Church history, Systematic theology, preaching, and more. I was ready for ministry. Or so I thought.
But… It was the Great Recession. A full year after completing my studies, I was without (paid) work. Pastors with busted retirement plans were not retiring. Churches were not hiring if even keeping their existing roles. There were no ministry jobs to be had for this newcomer.
Oh, did I mention that I had a 3 year old, an infant, and a wife to feed?
So, I took a part-time programming job when God clearly provided an opportunity. I figured this was just to get us by for a season until I could do “real ministry” full-time.
That was 15 years ago. I’ve never had just one job since.
Maybe you're not bivocational. Maybe you've never been to seminary. Maybe your struggle isn't church work vs. "day job."
But here's what took me a decade to learn: there's no such thing as secular work. And by the end of this post, you'll see why your Monday morning can be sacred—whether you're in business, education, healthcare, or raising kids at home.
First, let me tell you how I got here.
There's no such thing as secular work. If you're made in the Image of God, your work—whatever it is—is an expression of that image.
When Your Ministry Isn't Good Enough#
To be honest, for years I saw my bivocational life as a sign of failure—evidence that my ministry wasn’t good enough. I was desperate to escape the “day job” to solely focus on what I had trained for.
But somewhere along the way, something shifted.
When it did, I saw the theology of vocation and calling come to life in my own story. I just never realized it would look like this.
I didn’t feel guilty about working a second job. It was necessary to support my family.
I felt less-than.
Almost everyone around me in ministry had one job. Full-time pastors. Full-time missionaries. Salaries. Benefits. Pensions even. That was the model. That was success.
My bivocational life didn’t fit in anyone’s worldview—including my own.
I had spent three years in seminary. I had a Masters of Divinity degree. I could read Hebrew and Greek. But I was writing code and optimizing digital marketing during the day and preparing sermons at night.
I felt like my ministry wasn’t good enough to warrant a full-time role. It was as if I was stuck in the minor leagues.
On top of it, the exhaustion was real:
- Church calls during work hours
- Work calls during church hours
- Work morning, night, and weekend
- Laptops on vacation
- Never just one calendar, one inbox, one identity
- Toggling between Pastor Scott and Programmer Scott
- 15 years without a single job
But the emotional cost was worse:
I felt like I had wasted my seminary training. Like I’d failed to launch. Like I was perpetually just getting by until I could do ministry full-time.
The unspoken hierarchy was clear for my life:
- Full-time ministry = faithfulness
- Bivocational = compromise (or a stepping stone only)
“When are you going full-time?” “Still working both jobs?” The questions always carried the same assumption: bivocational was temporary.
And I believed it.
For years, I was desperate to escape the “day job”—not just because of the long hours, but because of what it represented: my diluted sense of worth.
If this is resonating, you’re not alone. Most of us have absorbed the sacred/secular divide without even realizing it.
Maybe your version doesn't look like mine. Maybe you're not navigating church and business. But I bet you've felt it:
- The sense that "real life" happens somewhere other than your Monday morning
- The feeling that your work is just a means to an end
- The exhaustion of compartmentalizing who you are
What I'm about to share changed everything for me. And I believe it will change your Monday morning too.
Wait… I’m the Only One?#
A few years in, I was at a gathering with pastors and church leaders.
A question went out: “How many of you have meaningful relationships with people who aren’t Christians?”
Silence.
Most people in the room admitted: their social circle was church people. Coworkers from church. Friends from church. Family who were Christians.
Sure, there was the neighbor they waved to. The visitor from last Sunday. The missions project. But meaningful relationships? Most did not dare raise their hands but a few inches.
I looked around, stunned.
I was around non-Christians constantly.
At work. In meetings. On client calls. At the conference. At the post-work happy hour.
These weren’t just transactional relationships. I was walking alongside people through divorces, career changes, health crises, celebrations. I was praying for them (often without them knowing). I was caring for them, speaking into their lives.
For the first time, I thought: Maybe the “day job” isn’t a distraction. Maybe it’s a mission field.
Maybe I’m not failing at ministry. Maybe I’m doing ministry in a place most full-time pastors never go.
This was the first crack in my sacred/secular divide. And once you see it, you can’t unsee it.
When Work Became More Than a Paycheck#
Around the same time, something else was shifting—something that applies whether you work in ministry, marketplace, or at home.
People at work started recognizing my contributions.
I wasn’t just “getting by.” I was doing good work. Solving complex problems. Leading teams. Clients were trusting my guidance.
People were noticing my work ethic, my approach, my kindness. And somewhere in that recognition, I started to see: My work had value beyond the paycheck.
I wasn’t just logging hours to fund ministry. I was actually creating value. I was serving people. I was solving real problems that made businesses—and people’s lives—better.
Then came the theological reframe.
I kept coming back to Genesis 1-2.
- Genesis 1:26-27: Humans are made in the Image of God—all of them
- Genesis 1:27: “Be fruitful and multiply”—a commission to create, build, bless
- Genesis 2:15: “To till and keep it”—Adam’s job BEFORE the fall
Work wasn't a punishment for sin. Work was part of the original design.
The realization hit me in a profound new way:
A human made in the Image of God doesn’t only find their worth in worship at church, their volunteering, or their mission. They find it in their vocation.
Work isn’t a result of the fall. Work isn’t punishment. Work is part of what it means to be human—to cultivate creation, to serve others, to reflect God’s creativity and care.
This was true of the people I pastored.
And it was true of me.
My "day job" wasn't secular. It never had been.
It was sacred. It was ministry. It was service to the Almighty.
And so is yours.
You're a Special Human Being#
There was a profound moment that brought everything together for me as I was changing roles.
I had worked with a particular client for years. He’d chewed me out on the phone more times than I could count. He was demanding. He was difficult to work with. He put a lot of pressure on us. While he had softened with me over the years, it was always there.
When he heard I was leaving, he reached out.
I expected frustration, anger perhaps.
Instead—though he knew the decision was final—he tried to convince me to stay. Then, he said this:
You've been instrumental in the growth of my business. You are a very smart and special human being, and those around you are blessed to have you.
I sat there staring at the message.
This man—who had yelled at me and been one of the most difficult clients—was telling me I’d blessed him.
And in that moment, I saw it:
This wasn’t just business impact. This was spiritual impact.
- A relationship had been transformed
- A person had been blessed
- A witness for Jesus had gone forth—not through a sermon, but through excellence, kindness, and perseverance in the work of digital marketing
I wasn’t “doing ministry on the side.” I was doing ministry.
I was reflecting the Image of God—His creativity, His patience, His care—in the workplace.
I was cultivating (programming sites, increasing traffic, building businesses)
I was serving people made in God’s Image (clients, coworkers)
I was partnering with God in His mission—not despite my work, but through it.
Genesis 1-2 wasn’t just theology. It was my Monday morning.
Both Are Part of My Calling#
I’d love to tell you that everything has gone smoothly since then.
It hasn’t.
Bivocational work still comes with challenges.
The two roles still tug at each other. I still take church calls during work. Work calls during church. I still navigate two calendars, two identities, two sets of expectations.
The cost is real:
- Time with my family
- Sleep. So much sleep.
- Relaxation
- Vacations
- Balance in life
- Energy
- Opportunities I’ve had to pass up
I’ve had to rely on the Spirit to be efficient in my work and preparation. I’ve had to let go of things I wish I could do—more time to invest in the church, more margin to rest, more time with family.
But here’s what I’ve gained:
- Perspective: I understand the stresses and challenges of “ordinary” people’s lives because I live them
- Credibility: I don’t just preach about work—I do it. My congregation (hopefully) sees a life that exemplifies the gospel in both areas.
- Financial freedom: My “day job” has allowed my wife to stay home with our kids. It’s given me the flexibility to plant a church with a tiny budget that doesn’t pay enough to live on.
The irony isn’t lost on me: the job I saw as a distraction from ministry because the thing that enabled ministry.
I see both roles as part of my calling for this season—and maybe for my entire career.
I’ve stopped trying to escape it. I’ve started embracing it.
Your Monday Morning Is Sacred#
If you’re reading this and thinking, “I don’t have two jobs like you, Scott”—good.
Because this isn’t really about having two jobs.
It’s about seeing the one life you have as sacred.
Here’s what I’ve learned that applies to all of us:
There’s no such thing as secular work.
If you’re made in the Image of God, your work—whatever it is—is an expression of that image.
You’re not toggling between “spiritual you” on Sunday and “regular you” on Monday.
You’re one Image-bearer, walking with God in every area of your life.
Here’s what that looks like:#
If you’re in business:
- You’re not “just making money”—you’re stewarding resources, serving clients, solving problems that improve lives
- You’re reflecting God’s creativity in your solutions
- You’re reflecting God’s justice in your decisions
- You’re reflecting God’s care in how you treat people
If you’re a teacher:
- You’re nurturing young minds made in God’s Image
- You’re cultivating the next generation
- You’re guiding others to be inspired by the goodness of God’s world
If you’re a nurse:
- You’re bringing healing and care to bodies God created
- You’re partnering with God in the work of restoration
- You’re showing value for those that are hurting
If you’re an engineer, an artist, a parent, a barista:
- You’re cultivating creation in your own unique way
- You’re reflecting God’s Image through your role
- You’re walking with God right where you are
The question isn’t: “How do I avoid sin at work so I can get to the real spiritual stuff on Sunday?”
The question is: “What garden is God inviting me to cultivate right here, right now?”
An Invitation#
It’s Monday morning.
You’re walking into work. Or opening your laptop. Or starting another day with the kids. Or beginning another shift.
For years, I thought Monday morning was something to survive—a necessary endeavor to get to the things I wanted or was truly called to do.
But Monday morning is sacred.
Your work isn’t secular just because it doesn’t happen in a church building.
Your work is sacred because:
- You were made in the Image of God
- You’re walking with God wherever you go—even at work
- You’re partnering with Him to cultivate creation, serve others, and reflect His character through everything you do
When I stopped seeing my life as “Ministry Scott” vs. “Work Scott” and started seeing myself as one Image-bearer walking with God in both arenas, everything changed.
Not because it became easy. But because it became meaningful and intentional.
Your Monday morning matters.
So here’s my question for you:
What would change if you saw your work and roles—whatever they are—as sacred?
What garden is waiting for you Monday morning?
Send a note and tell me. I’d love to hear your story.