This post was much more difficult to write than I thought it would be, and it’s a bit longer than I expected. I just wanted to share the true story of an important moment in my life that shaped a major part of who I am personally and professionally.
If you have ever walked away from a job, you probably have one particular memory that is set in stone. It is the quintessential moment that made you realize you couldn’t keep doing the job. I have a few of those myself. I also have one memory that holds a place in my mind that stands as my biggest moment of regret. It forever changed how I viewed work and family. This memory is one of two reasons why I left the library field and, after stumbling through a couple of unsuccessful career experiments, I made writing my career pursuit.
Several years ago, I was working as a director of a small library where the most people we ever saw were up to forty in an entire day, and that was a busy day. My most difficult task was managing two employees who were in their eighties, and I was only in my twenties. My parents, grandmother, and best friend all visited the little library on at least one occasion, and they were happy that I had found a full-time job in my chosen career field as full-time positions were difficult to come by. I was excited when my mom brought my grandmother to see the library even though it was in desperate need of decluttering. I dove into planning a summer reading program with typical twenty-something energy, and I was in the middle of finalizing preparations for the end of the program when my mom called me.
My grandmother was at the hospital because she had some unusual symptoms, and my mother thought I might want to come see her. I drove from my library to the county hospital where my grandmother was under care. She was awake and talking when I arrived, and she asked me about work. I was so full of energy about work that I was struggling to sit still. It turned out that Grandma was having mini-strokes that were causing mild symptoms, and they were keeping her overnight for observation. In my ignorance, I didn’t realize that mini-strokes can be a prelude to a full stroke so, after visiting for a few hours, I left the hospital to continue working on summer reading plans.
It was the last time my grandmother was able to speak.
In the night, she suffered a major stroke, and it hindered her ability to speak and paralyzed one side of her body. For the remaining few days of her life, my vibrant, hard-working, hard-praying grandmother slowly began to slip away from us. She was ready to go home to be with Jesus, but I was struggling to let her go. I kept thinking that she was going to recover, we would bring her home, and we would find a way to help her live with her new limitations.
But it didn’t happen like that.
In the remaining days after her stroke, we all went back and forth to the hospital to be with her. One Saturday, I was at home while my parents went to the hospital when the phone rang. I answered it, and it was my father telling me that my Grandma had gone home to glory.
Something in me broke that day.
For a long time after she passed, I lived on autopilot. Wake up, have breakfast, go to work, have lunch, go home, go to sleep, and repeat it all again the next day. I completely lost the passion for library work, and I just stumbled through doing the best that I could. The whole time I was berating myself for leaving that first day Grandma was in the hospital just so I could go work on some reading program. Why hadn’t I stayed with her longer? Why hadn’t I told my employees I would be in late and stayed the night? I knew it probably wouldn’t have changed the outcome, but I might have been there when it happened so she didn’t feel alone.
Even now as I sit here with my box of tissues, I still ask myself those questions. Every time I think I’ve let myself off the hook for it, I find that I have to forgive myself all over again for leaving that day. I’ve lived with that regret for almost twenty years, and I decided a long time ago that I had to find a way to use it for good. Since then, I’ve talked many times with young people about setting healthy priorities around work. I’ve emphasized the importance of family before work. I’m certainly not condoning laziness, but I learned the hard way that jobs don’t heal broken hearts. They don’t provide us a shoulder to cry on or a word of encouragement after a bad day. Jobs don’t give you a hug and put a plate of homemade supper in front of you. Jobs aren’t proud of you for the little accomplishments, and they don’t care if you’re sick or grieving or angry or sad.
This is why priorities matter.
Even after my grandmother’s passing, it took a while for me to recognize that jobs have a place. Jobs pay bills and provide the means to lead a lifestyle. However, it took several years of Bible study for me to realize that we have to be careful of putting a job ahead of other things. I learned a hard lesson about putting work before family, and I have lived that lesson out ever since. Then I had to learn about putting my job under God’s direction.
I had been a librarian for so long that I was struggling to see myself doing anything else, but that’s exactly what God asked me to do. He asked me to walk away from the only career field I had ever known, and believe me when I say I was scared. I was already in my forties, and God was asking me to start over. He might as well have been asking me to perform my own root canal for all that I looked forward to the prospect.
But I did it.
I stumbled through a few unsuccessful attempts in a new field before I realized that God was asking me to pick up my pen (or put my fingertips to the keyboard) and write.
Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths. (Proverbs 3:5-6, NKJV)
It’s been hard. I’ve learned to live on less. I’ve learned to put others before myself. I’m still working at it, and it still isn’t easy. But it is more fulfilling. I’ve been able to put God and family first this year in ways that I had never been able to before. With less money to buy things, I don’t grab stuff in the store that I don’t need. I utilize items that I’ve had for a while instead of letting them continue to sit unused. I appreciate what I have more than I did when I could easily replace it.
Most importantly, I’ve refocused my life on God and the work He wants me to do. I’m writing more about my faith and sharing my professional skills to help others. I’m communicating better with people, and I’m recognizing the needs of others better and more quickly. God had to bring me through something difficult twenty years ago to get me where I am now. The Master Potter has been shaping me my whole life to get me here.
But now, O Lord, You are our Father; we are the clay, and You our potter; and we are all the work of Your hand. (Isaiah 64:8, NKJV)
Whatever the moment was, think about what has set your priorities today. Are you truly living the life you know God has for you? Are your personal and professional priorities at odds with each other? Are your relationships suffering for a few more dollars in the bank or a few more toys at home? Do you already have a regret that is shaping who you are? Don’t wait for something to happen that can’t be fixed. Don’t continue down the wrong path expecting God to bless it if it isn’t the one He planned for you. Learn from the regret and hurt of someone who has already been there. Sit down with the Lord and let Him tell you where to turn next. I won’t promise the path will be easy, but you will feel it in your soul when you’ve learned the lesson God has for you. Give your priorities to God, and He will set them in order.
But my life is worth nothing to me unless I use it for finishing the work assigned me by the Lord Jesus—the work of telling others the Good News about the wonderful grace of God. (Acts 20:24, NLT)
All Things Subject to Change 