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Tag: jesus

  • Susan & Oishi: The Signal Co. – Episode 2 Bare Minimum & Biblical Memos

    Narrator: Oishi
    (Because I’m the only one with enough patience to tell this properly.)

    Welcome to The SIGNAL Co. — a telecommunication company whose motto is:
    “We test your patience so you don’t have to.”

    From the outside, the building looks grand. If you’re a fresh graduate walking by during your job hunt, you’d probably pause and whisper, “Wow, I hope I work there someday.”
    But once you’re inside? Different story.

    Chaos.
    Customers lining up like it’s Doomsday Prepper Sunday.
    Complaints flying in about laggy internet, mysterious charges, and “businesses ruined” because someone’s WiFi has been dead for a week.
    Screaming. Everywhere.

    This is the daily warzone that tests our patience. Especially that of the frontline crew: Susan, Yohanes, and Brenda — our beloved customer service team. Though let’s be honest, only Brenda is actually doing customer service.

    Susan and Yohanes?
    Their motto is:
    “Why give your best when you can give the bare minimum?”
    Said, of course, while high-fiving in the pantry and dodging calls.

    They thrive in the chaos.
    Angry customer? Meh.
    Why waste energy on someone who doesn’t even say thank you?

    Yohanes, with his trademark deadpan:
    “Let them scream. They’ll stop when they run out of air.”
    And Susan? Mid-siopao bite, nodding in agreement:
    “That’s right, BFF.”

    But this particular morning, something was different.

    Brenda — yes, Brenda, the moral compass of this shipwreck — suddenly went quiet. And then, mid-kitchen laughter, she said:

    “Why is life at work unfair?”

    Susan froze. Siopao still hanging out of her mouth.
    Yohanes raised a brow:
    “Come again, sister? Did Brenda the Perfect just ask that? Brenda, the Do Your Job Properly Brenda? Brenda the Let’s Do the Right Thing Brenda?”

    Brenda sighed.
    “I guess… I just feel tired. Unseen. Like I’m getting what I don’t deserve. You know what I mean?”

    Susan slammed her fist on the table like she was about to lead a workers’ revolt — until Horatio T., the HR guy, passed by. That shut her up real quick.

    (As your narrator, Oishi, I’d just like to add: Susan, ma’am, respectfully — you don’t get to complain about being unappreciated when you’ve been treating customers like background noise and rehearsing your nightly drama with Yohanes before even starting your shift.)

    Brenda continued.
    “I see staff being mistreated by managers, and managers being disrespected by staff. I see good people overlooked for promotions… while others climb the ladder without a clue. I see customers being unreasonable, and employees ignoring those who actually need help.”

    Then she said something that silenced everyone:
    “Not all managers are villains. And not all staff are heroes.”

    Sometimes, the real enemy isn’t the title —
    It’s the attitude behind it.”

    That hit different.
    Even Susan and Yohanes went quiet — probably because… well, they were part of the problem.

    Meanwhile, Horatio T. (who’d been eavesdropping) walked straight to Ishmael — our janitor and unexpected moral authority. If the office had a prophet, it would be him.

    “Hey,” Horatio asked, “what do I tell these people?”

    Ishmael didn’t hesitate.
    “Tell them Colossians 3:23–24.”

    Horatio blinked.
    “Is that… from the Bible?”
    (Ishmael just stared at him.)

    He finally said:
    “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters — since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving.”
    And then he walked away to mop up a coffee spill in the customer lounge.

    Horatio, being Horatio, took that verse and ran with it. He did what he loves most — drafted a company-wide memo. But first, he needed to figure out how to explain this verse to a group of burnt-out, underappreciated, chronically sarcastic employees. And this is what he sent:

    “To the Survivors of Chaos: A Memo from HR (and Heaven)”

    Memo Start:
    Dear Signal Co. Employee,
    Greetings to you people with questionable characters,

    Lately, we’re being attacked by the humanoids (a.k.a. customers), and instead of showing up with our A-game, we’ve delivered legendary epic-fails. Some of you raised concerns about fairness. Some of you are the concern (you know who you are). But I hear you.

    Here’s what a wise friend told me to pass on:

    Colossians 3:23–24
    “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving.”

    And now… a few thoughts that might just help.

    📌 Colossians 3:23–24 reminds us that our true employer is the Lord. Whether we are praised or overlooked, we are called to work with all our heart — not for human approval, but as an offering to God. This changes how we show up in difficult workplaces.

    To apply this practically:

    • Shift your mindset: See your work as service to God, not just your boss.
    • Pursue excellence: Not for applause, but because it honors Christ.
    • Build resilience: Anchor your attitude in grace, not in how others treat you.
    • Seek contentment: You may not get the role you want now, but your reward is eternal.
    • Foster community: Surround yourself with people who uplift and challenge you.
    • Reflect on your impact: Even unseen effort can quietly transform an office.

    To endure toxic work culture:

    • Pray consistently (Phil. 4:6–7) to stay grounded and guarded in peace.
    • Know your purpose (Col. 3:23–24) — God sees what others ignore.
    • Lean on others (Ecc. 4:9–10) who can help carry the weight.
    • Protect your well-being (1 Cor. 6:19–20) through rest and boundaries.
    • Practice gratitude (1 Thess. 5:16–18) — it keeps bitterness at bay.
    • Grow through trials (James 1:2–4) — hardship builds perseverance.
    • Stay rooted in truth (Phil. 4:13) — strength comes from Christ, not circumstance.

    Even when the workplace doesn’t change, you can. And when you work for the Lord, no effort is wasted.

    – Horatio T.
    (Your favorite HR guy, probably.)

    Oishi’s Note (because apparently, I have thoughts too):

    So… why do I know all this?
    Because Susan tells me everything. From her siopao-to-sunset monologues to every minor injustice she suffered since 1997.
    And as much as I’d love to say I care — I don’t.

    But this one?
    This one hit different.

    And I’m pretty sure Mighty Paw and Sir Barkcelot would agree.
    (Especially after their HR hearings.)”

    Brenda spoke. Horatio blinked. Ishmael quoted scripture. And for once, I saw Susan pause.

    She actually asked herself how she can work for the Lord.
    (I almost dropped my chew toy.)

    Now, I could’ve said, “Read the Bible, woman.”
    I could’ve said, “The memo literally quotes it.”
    But I didn’t.

    Because sometimes the loudest humans need to sit in quiet questions.

    So here’s what I’ll say instead:
    The world doesn’t revolve around Susan.
    Or customers.
    Or complaints.

    It revolves around a Shepherd who walks with the underpaid, the overlooked, the silently screaming, the ones who forgot to submit their time sheets again and the ones who showed up anyway.

    You matter. Even when no one claps. Even when your inbox on fire. Even when you’re hanging by the wi-fi thread, and your soul feels like a draft email unsent.

    And yes… Susan still loves me.
    Tragically. Obsessively.
    And I love her too.

    – Oishi 🐾
    (CSO – Chief Sarcastic Officer, Certified Theologian by Experience, Dog Therapist in Residence, Signal Co.)

    📡 Totally Made-Up Company Alert: The Signal Co.: Not your internet provider — but we will disconnect your emotional stability. We don’t sell broadband. We sell breakdowns.

  • Susan & Oishi: Episode 10 — Susan’s Having a Menty B & Feeling Depressy

    A Comic About Anxiety, Prayer, and the Peace That Makes No Sense

    As narrated by Oishi, at 2 a.m.

    It was an ordinary night. Sus brushed my teeth, tucked me in, kissed my paw, and whispered, “Goodnight, my sweet badoodle.” All was calm… until it wasn’t.

    At exactly 2:04 a.m., Susan transformed from a semi-functional hooman into a full-blown melodramatic elephant—wailing in the dark like a tragic opera soloist. Naturally, I woke up. She was sitting on the floor, back against the bed, sobbing.

    “Oishi,” she sniffled, “I’m feeling fidgety and depressy. I’m having a menty B.”

    Translation: disquietude and misery. In hooman terms—she was anxious and depressed.

    She began listing her worries like a grocery list no one asked for:

    • Her overdue credit card bills
    • A report due in 8 hours she hasn’t started
    • Fear of being judged by people she doesn’t even like
    • And the weather. Yes, the weather.

    Some things were preventable. Like binge-watching Law & Order: SVU as if she’s part of the cast. (Spoiler: she’s not Olivia Benson.) Some were out of her control—like storms and the speed of donut deliveries.

    And while I appreciate the lion squeaky toy she got me last week, our bed now looks like a plushie war zone. She’s no heiress. She needs to chill.

    But what truly broke my stoic dog heart was watching her spiral over things already buried in the past—mistakes from years ago, things no one remembers but her.

    So I did what any emotionally intelligent Shih Tzu would do. I retrieved the Bible using my teeth (you’re welcome), flipped to Philippians 4:6–7, and dropped it in front of her.

    “Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.
    And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”

    She read it. Her tears slowed. Then she blinked at me and said, “Oishi… what does transcends mean?”

    Paw to forehead.

    I explained, “It means to go beyond. To surpass. To rise above the noise, even when your brain is hosting a full-blown karaoke of panic.”

    Still confused, she asked, “But how do I thank God when I’m anxious? Am I supposed to say, ‘Dear Lord, I’m depressed and fidgety—thanks!’?”

    That’s when I knew we needed divine backup.

    Jesus arrived (smiling). Mighty Paw came too (annoyed). Together, they explained:

    Praying with thanksgiving isn’t about pretending you’re not anxious. It’s about choosing gratitude in spite of it. It’s saying:
    “Lord, I’m overwhelmed… but I know You’ve carried me before, and You’ll carry me again.”

    Gratitude shifts your focus from the storm to the Savior.

    The peace God gives doesn’t always make sense. It’s not based on how calm life is. It surpasses understanding—guarding your mind like a fortress, holding your heart when it’s falling apart.

    And right there, Susan got it.

    She brought out cocoa. We snuggled in. And yes, we finished the Law & Order finale (she still hasn’t started her report, but sure—let’s prioritize Olivia Benson roleplay).

    She slept like a baby. I didn’t. Her snoring kept me up.

    The end. (Now let me sleep all day. Don’t @ me.)
    – Oishi

    🐾 “Signed with sass and scripture.”


    📝 Writer’s Note

    Anxiety and midnight panic attacks are no joke.
    They’re real, disorienting, and often arrive without warning—especially at 2 a.m.

    This comic tells that story with humor and heart, not to downplay the struggle, but to bring light into it. Because while the pain is real, so is the peace that comes when you surrender your worries to God.

    Your problems may not magically disappear,
    but your perspective will shift
    because the Prince of Peace is right beside you. Always.

    🐾
    Thank you for being here.
    If you’ve ever had your own 2 a.m. spiral, we hope this story brings a little laughter, a little peace— and a reminder that you’re not alone.

    -Ember

  • 🏖️ Susan & Oishi: Episode 8 – Praise, Petty Thoughts, and Pina Coladas

    Narrator: Oishi (as if it would be anyone else)

    It was a Sunday morning — but not just any Sunday.
    Susan and I woke up unusually early and started bouncing on the bed. She was already in her green bathing suit.
    (My eye twitched. I considered pretending to be blind. But I let it slide. I was excited too.)

    For weeks now, our neighbors had been planning a neighborhood outing. Post-dinner meetings, heated debates about who brings the rice cooker, and of course, the classic standoff over who would drive. Everyone wanted to be on the trip, not responsible for it.

    So they voted.
    And the unlucky winner?
    Boyo. Yes — that Boyo. The guy who once blasted “Bed of Roses” on repeat until even the cats started howling.

    Susan and I were packing. She handed me my goggles, and for a moment — I felt something.
    (Not quite a heart flutter. Let’s call it… elevated awareness.)

    The thought of the beach — the breeze, the barbecue, the possibility of new hoomans who weren’t from The Signal Co. — it thrilled me. I even wagged.

    The van ride was chaos and joy. Singing, laughing, someone choking on chips. Susan was screeching “Apt! Apt! Apt!” from that Bruno Mars/Rose collab like she was auditioning for the role of “Off-Key Hype Woman.” No one minded. We were all just… in it. Present.

    When we arrived, we stepped out and took it all in. The salty air. The breeze. The mountains folding into the sea.
    It was perfect.

    Neighbors got to work — grill stations, beach mats, someone trying to build a tent they clearly never read the manual for.
    Susan peeled off her cover-up, scooped me up like the emotional support king I am, and together we sat by the waves.

    We played fetch. We ate like we hadn’t seen food in years.
    We talked. We laughed.
    And for once, she didn’t complain about work, or traffic, or slow Wi-Fi. She just smiled.

    As the sun dipped low, we sat quietly on the sand, wrapped in the afterglow of joy and grilled meat.

    And then — she said it.

    “God must have a beautiful imagination. Look at this view. It’s perfect. What a Creator.”

    I was stunned.
    Usually, she reserves her poetic moments for when she’s holding a donut in one hand and ranting in the other.

    But this?
    This was awe.

    ✍️ Writer’s Note:

    I stumbled upon this line today:
    “Worshipping God means acknowledging and celebrating His power and perfection in gratitude.”

    And maybe… that’s exactly what this moment was.

    No music. No altar.
    Just Susan and Oishi, sitting by the sea —
    surrounded by mountains, waves, and the quiet company of God’s imagination.

    “What a Creator.”
    “Look at all this.”

    Sometimes worship is loud.
    Sometimes it’s a soft whisper wrapped in awe.

    This is worship, too.

    —From the heart of Susan & Oishi 🐾



  • Susan & Oishi: Ep. 5 We Are Not Ready: A Paranormal Sitcom

    Narrator: Susan, Frightened to the Max

    It was just an ordinary day — raining outside, chips in hand, cuddling on the couch with Oishi.
    We were watching our favorite show: The Detective Agency, starring Sera, Rhys, and Nova (you remember them from Episode 4: Oishi’s Nightmare).

    It was all fun and fiction until —
    BOOM.
    A car exploded on screen right as thunder cracked outside.

    Then came another boom — lightning struck the electric post.
    And just like that, the power went out.
    The house went dark.
    The neighborhood? A blackout.

    Narrator: Oishi, Scared to Death

    I was about to suggest we get the flashlight when we heard it —
    Footsteps. Wind howling. A loud “awooooooo.”
    Like a ghost-wolf who forgot to mind his volume.

    Susan clutched me like a stuffed toy, and I — a brave, diaper-wearing Shi Tzu — called upon the Mighty Paw.
    Susan, on the other hand, went full Pentecostal.
    “In the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, I rebuke you!”

    Whoa.
    Sus? You believe in the Big Guy?
    You don’t even read the Bible. You read “How to Get Slim Without Exercising” and air fryer recipes.

    And… “Listen, I was so scared I didn’t even notice Susan changed outfits. One minute she’s in orange, next she’s in green — either we’re haunted or she packed for the apocalypse.”


    Suddenly, the Mighty Paw appeared — calm, glowing, mildly judgmental.
    Tears welled up in my eyes.
    “Mighty Paw! Use your powers! Make the ghosties disappear!”

    He shook his noble head.
    “Oh, you silly Little PhilosoFurr. I don’t have that kind of power. But I know someone who does.
    He’s the One who can calm bad spirits — and even Susan’s tantrums.
    You can tell Him anything — even how much you love chimken.”

    My tail twitched.
    “Please just tell me who! I’m scared! My soul is shaking and my diaper is full!”

    Before he answered, a bright light filled the room.

    Narrator: Oishi, Humbled & Slightly Wet

    He wore white.
    He raised His hand.
    He smiled at me — gently, warmly — and said:

    “Hi Oishi.
    I’m Jesus.”

    I was in awe.
    He looked so peaceful… unlike me and Susan, who were still running around like squirrels on espresso.
    But I noticed something:
    He had a hole in His hand.
    And yet — He smiled.

    Then, without a single word, the ghosts — human and paw — saw Him and immediately vanished.

    Susan fell to her knees, sobbing.
    I think she howled. Like… elephant-style.
    “THANK YOU, JESUS!!”

    And me?
    No, I didn’t hug Him right away.

    I peed first.
    Then I hugged Him.

    He whispered:

    “I love you, Oishi.
    I love Susan.
    And I will always protect you.”

    And I believed Him.
    Because no matter how brave I try to be —
    Susan’s kind of a lot.
    (And if you haven’t noticed, she’s… large.)


    PS. She really committed to that praise pose like she was trying to send a signal to heaven and win an Oscar. 🙄
    I didn’t say anything… but in my mind? “Not this again, Susan.”

  • Something Good Is About to Happen (And No, I’m Not Just Saying That)

    Have you ever felt like something good is about to happen?

    I did—in the shower. There must be something magical in tap water, or maybe it was just the conditioner finally reaching my brain. Whatever it was, I felt a shift.

    For the past few years, my heart has been heavy with sadness and discouragement. My mind? Full of anxious thoughts doing laps. I hit that weird emotional state where I wasn’t happy or sad—just okay. The “emotionally buffering” zone. I even lost count of how many times I Googled “drifting through life means.”

    (And yes, I might look ten years younger than my age, but I’ve lived through enough plot twists to earn those Googles.)

    I used to cling to a quote I found online—“live life moment to moment.”
    It helped, kind of. For a while.
    But eventually, I realized: I need more than a Pinterest mantra.

    What I thought I needed was a man. A strong, strategic, steady man.
    Translation: a husband.
    A handsome one who would sweep me off my feet, take me on wild adventures, and look good in travel selfies.

    Look, don’t judge me. I’ve been single for a long time. Let a girl dream.

    But here’s the plot twist:
    I didn’t need a man. I needed healing.

    I kept looking outward—promotion, success, plane tickets—chasing things I thought would make me feel whole. But the advice always circled back to the same things:

    “Find happiness within.”
    “Help someone in need.”
    “Be grateful.”

    And I was like:
    I am someone in need.
    What do you mean “be grateful”? I’m barely hanging on!

    But then… I came across this verse again. And something in me softened:


    Philippians 4:6-7
    “Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.
    And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.”


    So I tried. I prayed. I thanked Him—even when I didn’t feel like it at first.
    And something shifted.

    No, I’m not suddenly problem-free or perfectly happy. But I feel different. I feel a quiet strength, a steadiness. A sense that even if I don’t get what I’m asking for, He hears me. And that’s enough.

    To my fellow citizens of the Republic of Anxiety:
    Try gratitude. Not just the hashtag version. The raw, shaky kind.
    Memorize that verse. Whisper it when the spiral starts. Put it in your heart.

    Because something good is about to happen.
    Even if it’s just peace.
    And honestly? That’s more than enough.

  • Be Like Joy — Bright, Bold, and a Little Delusional

    (Hint: This is not an Inside Out review, okay? 😂)

    “Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.”
    Matthew 6:34

    We worry about everything.
    Money. Jobs. Bills.
    What people think. Where our lives are headed.
    Whether we’ll ever get the things we’re longing for.
    (Or in my case, whether I’ll ever get a husband. Yes, I’m single — waving at all the single guys out there. 👋)

    And for parents? Add a few more layers of worry — spouses, kids, school fees, and why the electricity bill suddenly looks like it was written in Greek.

    Let me tell you a story from my early days in the UAE.
    Spoiler: it includes heat, humility, near-starvation, and one small miracle with a side of dates.


    Welcome to RAK, the Budget Adventure Package

    I loved my life in the UAE. The desert safaris, the food, the stunning buildings, and friendships with people from all over the world — it felt like a movie.
    But here’s the truth: even the best movies have a few horror scenes.

    One day, my company decided to transfer me from Dubai to Ras Al Khaimah (RAK).
    I was nervous, sure — I didn’t know anyone there.
    But also excited… because I’m stubborn like that. ✨New experience! ✨No backup plan! ✨What could go wrong!

    Well. Let’s talk about the part where I only had 20 dirhams to my name.
    Not 200. Not 2,000.
    Twenty.

    And I had to:

    • Move to a new city
    • Pay rent in advance
    • Pay a carlift (no car!)
    • Exit the country soon (visa expiring, fun yaay!)
    • Eat food like a regular human

    Mood? Full-blown panic.
    Budget? Spiritual
    Options? Cry, pray, or cry-while-praying.


    Enter: The Unexpected Provision

    My manager told me to go visit Al Hamra Mall before the move.
    It was new, bright, and weirdly empty. Retailers were chilling outside their stores like it was their front porch.

    There, I met a woman — let’s call her M.
    We started chatting and I told her I’d be moving to RAK but didn’t have a place yet.

    And then… she offered me a place to stay.
    No advance rent.
    Just, “You can live with us.”

    She even let me crash that same day and cooked for me.
    Hot. Cooked. Food.
    Reader, I almost cried on her plate.


    Ramadan & the 20 Dirham Diet

    Then came the real test.
    Ramadan started. I had no money. The carlift driver kept asking for his fare and I kept pretending I didn’t hear him. (Sorry, Mohamed. God bless your patience.)

    But he kept picking me up anyway.
    Problem #2 solved.

    Food? I pretended I was fasting.
    I’m Catholic, but I used the season to embrace spiritual minimalism (aka, I was broke).

    Local people gave out dates and water at sunset — that became dinner.
    And then, M noticed… and started feeding me lunch and dinner.

    And then — family to the rescue.
    One of my cousins from Dubai showed up out of nowhere with bags of groceries.
    She said she had a gut feeling I was starving.

    “Turns out God has a way of whispering into your cousin’s heart mid-grocery run.”

    One by one, God crossed off every worry I had — housing, transport, food — with quiet, gentle kindness.


    And Then Joy Walked In

    That season taught me that Matthew 6:34 is real.
    Don’t worry about tomorrow.
    Not because tomorrow is magical —
    But because God already lives there.

    Anxiety makes you spiral.
    It clutters your mind like tangled wires.
    It keeps you up at night rehearsing disasters that never come.
    But joy?
    Joy shows up with 20 dirhams and no plan… and still believes something good will happen.

    I still feel anxious, of course. I’m human.
    But now, I don’t let anxiety drive the car.
    I acknowledge her, let her sit in the back… and let Joy take the wheel.


    Let Me Leave You With This

    We still need to plan — don’t get me wrong.
    You can’t say “I want to be a pilot” and then not learn how to fly a plane.
    But what I’ve learned is this:

    One by one, every need I was anxious about — housing, transport, food — was covered by kindness I didn’t see coming.

    When you don’t have anything, trust God’s provision through the unexpected people He sends your way. Sometimes it’s not a miracle falling from the sky… sometimes it’s a carlift driver who keeps showing up even when you pretend you didn’t hear him.

    Do not worry about tomorrow, He said and He meant it.

    See you in the next story.
    Where the budget was tight, the visa was tighter… and somehow, I ended up in Iran.
    Not by choice, but definitely with emotion.

    Coming soon: “The Reluctant Border Queen.”

  • “It’s Just Work, Nothing Personal… Right?”

    Colossians 3:23–24:
    “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving.”

    Every Sunday night, I get this feeling I can’t quite explain—you know, the universal “ugh, work again tomorrow” vibe. Don’t get me wrong, I like my job. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t still be here six years later (and counting, by the way—loyalty badge unlocked).

    After some reflection, I realized it’s not the actual work that makes me want to dramatically throw my laptop out the window and board the next flight (Okay, slight exaggeration. I work from home, so maybe I’d just slam the fridge door dramatically instead.)

    The truth is, it’s the people—sometimes. You can be deep in your task, finally in the zone, and then boom—“Hi, can I just ask something really quick?” (Spoiler: it’s never quick.) And let’s not even talk about bosses. For the record, if any of my current teammates or manager stumble upon this post—hi! This is totally about my past jobs. Wink.

    I’ve worked most of my life, held different roles, and reported to various bosses. And one thing is universal: if you and your boss are out of sync, it feels like trying to do a trust fall with someone who’s scrolling TikTok. Work becomes survival.

    That’s when I found the verse above. But truthfully? At first, I resisted. “Work with all my heart? Girl, my heart is telling me to grab my slippers and scram.”

    But here’s where it gets real.
    When I feel drained or wronged, I go back to that verse. Because it’s hard to give your best when you feel unappreciated or mistreated. Honestly, sometimes it’s hard to even give the bare minimum. But then I remember: I’m not just doing this for my company or my boss—I’m working for the Lord.

    Let that sink in.
    “I am working for the Lord.”
    When I repeat that, something shifts. He is worthy of my time, my excellence—even when others aren’t. It doesn’t magically erase the stress, but it lightens the weight I carry.

    I’m not saying we shouldn’t aim to impress our managers or be team players. They have authority, and we honor that. But at the end of the day—as we say here in my country, quoting an action star—“It’s just work. Nothing personal.”

    Insert moment of truth here:

    And just to be clear—it’s not like I didn’t want anyone to ask questions. Actually, I feel honored when someone asks me how to do things because it means they trust my knowledge. But it’s the ones who ask without even trying to look for the answer first—or when the answer is literally staring at them from the screen—that can be a little frustrating. Like… open your eyes, dude! The answer is right there. Highlighted. In bold. With sparkles.

    Of course, not all bosses are villains. Maybe some just had a few rough chapters that turned them cold and guarded. You know, like Scar—Mufasa’s brother in The Lion King. Maybe he started out okay, but somewhere along the line, he let bitterness take over. And then you have bosses like Mufasa—wise, composed, and protective. Alright, let’s stop here before I break down the entire Lion King trilogy. Hakuna Matata, moving on!


    A Short Prayer

    Dear God,
    Thank You for the life You’ve given us. You know how many times I’ve cried because of mistreatment at work. You’ve seen my bitterness when words cut deep, and yet You’ve always carried me through.

    I pray not just for myself, but for everyone who feels unseen, hurt, or overwhelmed in their workplace. Help us to find comfort in Your Word, and to remember that we are ultimately working for You. Let that truth fuel us to keep showing up—with heart, with strength, and with grace.

    In Jesus’ name, Amen.

    “When work feels heavy, remember who you’re really working for.” 🙏

    Written by Ember

    Full-time dreamer, part-time overthinker