The Fog of Work

Work can feel like a fog. Some days we lose sight of why we’re doing it. We clock in, grind through the day, clock out, and repeat. Maybe we’re pushing through dishes in a cafeteria kitchen, typing away in a cubicle, teaching restless children, or changing diapers. Sometimes it feels like we’re just doing time.

Ecclesiastes 3:16–4:6 speaks into that fog. Solomon—the “Preacher”—pulls back the curtain on the world of work, inviting us to open our eyes. What we see might be painful, but it’s also necessary. Because only by seeing clearly can we respond rightly and find joy—even in our labor.

We can find deep joy in our work as we open our eyes and respond rightly to what we see.

What Must We See?

Even if you don’t earn a paycheck, you still work—at home, at school, in service to others. And if we’re going to endure that work with joy, we need to see the world as it really is.

Wickedness is Everywhere

Solomon opens by lamenting that even the “place of justice” (the courtroom) and the “place of righteousness” (possibly the temple) are corrupted. He sees wickedness where righteousness should reign (Eccl. 3:16).

That’s true today, too. We see injustice in our courts, hypocrisy in our churches, and brokenness in our workplaces. If we close our eyes to this reality, we’ll assume our frustration at work is simply due to a bad boss or an unhealthy company. But the truth is, wickedness isn’t confined to certain jobs—it infects all work under the sun.

Don’t be surprised when you find sin in your workplace. Open your eyes. That’s the first step toward joy—not naive optimism, but honest realism.

Death Comes for Everyman

Ecclesiastes 3:19–21 reminds us that all creatures—human and animal—share the same fate: we die. Solomon isn’t denying the soul or the afterlife. He’s pointing out that, from an earthly perspective, we all return to dust.

That reality may sound bleak, but it’s also freeing. When we ignore death, we cling to our work for identity, security, and legacy. But when we remember that we’re mortal, we stop trying to use our jobs to become immortal. We can work for what matters now—not for monuments in the sand.

Oppression Poisons Everything

Ecclesiastes 4:1–3 is a gut-wrenching observation: the oppressed suffer without comfort, and the oppressors—despite their power—lack comfort too. The Preacher says the dead are better off than the living, and the unborn better still.

This is emotional honesty, not theological despair. Solomon is describing how it feels to witness deep injustice. And if you’ve never felt that kind of sorrow, it may be because you’ve looked away.

Ignoring injustice will leave you empty. You’ll use your work as a distraction—but when real suffering breaks through, your shallow response won’t hold. Joy comes, paradoxically, when you let your heart break over what breaks God’s heart—and let that shape your work.

Envy Motivates Everybody

“All toil and skill in work come from a man’s envy of his neighbor” (Eccl. 4:4). That’s a devastating line. We often assume hard work is driven by noble goals—but often, it’s fueled by comparison. We want what others have, so we grind harder to get it.

If you ignore envy’s influence, you’ll never be content. You’ll chase success not for its own sake, but to prove something. You’ll never rest, and your joy will constantly erode.

God Judges Everyone

Twice, Solomon lifts his eyes beyond the sun to the One who made it. “God will judge the righteous and the wicked,” he says (Eccl. 3:17). That’s the ultimate reason to do right—even when the world is wrong. God sees. God knows. And one day, He will judge.

This truth sobers us—but it also sets us free. We’re not working for corrupt systems or broken approval. We’re working for the Lord.

How Should We Respond?

Seeing the world clearly is only the beginning. Once we open our eyes, we must live differently. Solomon’s focus is our work—how we spend our days under the sun.

Stop Slacking

“The fool folds his hands and eats his own flesh” (Eccl. 4:5). That’s a graphic image of laziness. Some, overwhelmed by the world’s darkness, just give up. They withdraw, check out, and stop trying.

But laziness isn’t restful—it’s destructive. Like spiritual cannibalism, it slowly devours you. Work is hard, yes—but it’s also good. A refusal to work is not a solution. It’s surrender.

Stop Striving

If the slacker folds his hands, the striver stretches for more. “Better is a handful of quietness than two hands full of toil and striving after wind” (Eccl. 4:6). The striver is always chasing—more money, more success, more recognition. But it’s a race with no finish line.

Instead, Solomon commends quietness—the quiet contentment of receiving your work as a gift, not a god. This doesn’t mean laziness, but peace. One handful is enough.

Jesus told a parable about a rich man who built bigger barns but didn’t prepare his soul. God called him a fool (Luke 12:16–21). Are you hoarding with both hands, or are you resting with one?

Start Savoring

Ecclesiastes 3:22 says, “There is nothing better than that a man should rejoice in his work, for that is his lot.” This is the sweet alternative to slacking and striving: savoring.

Your job might not be glamorous. It might be like scrubbing trays in a cafeteria. But if God has given it to you, it’s not meaningless. It’s your lot—and you can rejoice in it.

That doesn’t mean you stop pursuing growth or new opportunities. But it does mean you stop believing the lie that joy comes from the “next thing.” Joy can be found right here, right now—in the ordinary work you do for the glory of God.

That’s the invitation Ecclesiastes gives us: wake up to the brokenness of the world, then work in a way that honors the God who rules over it.

We live in the shadow of Adam’s sin, in a world where labor is hard and thorns grow where roses should. But Jesus—the second Adam—entered that broken world to redeem it. He wore a crown of thorns. He suffered under injustice. He died and rose again to give us hope beyond the sun.

Because of Him, we can work with joy—even in the fog.