This is the state of my office.
If you’re one of the sorry SOBs following me on Facebook, you know by my overshares that I’ve been going through some stuff. You also know I haven’t written much in the past year. I lost all heart and momentum, thanks to several big, emotional, word-stealing events.
In the midst of that turmoil, the workload at my day job increased to an unmanageable level. I thought it would eventually diminish. It didn’t. Each day seemed worse than the one before until it felt like someone stood on my back pressing my face into the dirt. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t sleep. When I did, I didn’t want to wake up.
Months passed, during which a simmering thought turned to a rolling boil: you are not living the life intended for you.
I was not only off the path, but lost in the woods with no water, no food, no toilet paper, and I had to poop.
I became snagged fishing line, rising in pitch as I neared the breaking point.
I prayed for a lifeline. God threw one, a scary one, but when God throws you a lifeline, you don’t shit out of grabbing hold of the rope.
So. Yesterday was my last day of full-time work. A part-time position awaits me at a local law firm, which means the end of my very long commute. It also means four—FOUR!—days a week for writing. I don’t know why I’m glad about that, since it’s unlikely my writing will ever pay our bills. We won’t be eating out anymore. I’ll be growing, canning, and catching a lot of our food. Somehow, that sounds okay to me. I’m thankful it sounds fine to my husband, too.
I said farewell to my work family yesterday, good people I’ve loved for many years. It wasn’t easy. That job and those friends were constants in my world when everything else was falling apart.
I suppose because God knows I’m a fearful creature, He’s been sending me little messages to strengthen my courage. I thought I’d share them here in case you’re going through some anxiety of your own. I either heard these on the radio or saw them on signs over the past few weeks. They were important enough to write down in a notebook I carry:
NEVER LET FEAR DECIDE YOUR FUTURE
GOD’S GOT HIS HAND ON YOU; DON’T LIVE YOUR LIFE IN FEAR
STEP INTO THE LIGHT; HE’S RIGHT THERE BY YOUR SIDE
DON’T TRY HARDER; TRUST HARDER.
I am cleaning my home office today. I start the new job Monday. On Tuesday, it’s back to writing. It’s time to finish those two works in progress languishing at the 60,000 word mark.
When I’m complaining about eating my 500th trout, I may need you to remind me again that I did the right thing . . .