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The drudgery of work

Can we find meaning in the drudgery of our work?

If this is an impersonal universe made up of impersonal atoms, then any sense of meaning is just imposed on us. We are one of many random events.

But what if the universe is personal? What if there is a loving, personal God behind it all? Could beauty and wonder be part of our story? Could there be a point to it all?

Bible reference(s):
Ecclesiastes
With