What happens after you’re no longer who you’ve been your whole life?
I’ve always thought of myself as a Christian first, a daughter of the King, then a wife and mother, and after that a worker bee, a secretary, an assistant to an appellate court justice who works to help pay the bills.
Now I am on the brink of retirement. Hooray, you say. Hooray. I can get more involved at church. I can write full time. I can do all those things that I haven’t had time to do all these 40 years that I’ve been working that pesky “other” job.
But I find myself so often full of sadness at this looming prospect of leaving, of life after work. Because I am good at this job. I am good at assisting my justice, at making her job easier, at anticipating what she needs before she knows she needs it. I am good at proofreading and editing appellate court opinions. I am good at style and grammar. I am the go-to girl for the other judicial assistants when they have questions. I like the high level of intellectual conversation and debate with which I am surrounded every day. I like that lawyers and justices ask my opinion and actually listen when I give it.
What am I going to be after that’s over?
I know I want to write, and I’m excited that I’ll have time to do more of it. But … what if I don’t have anything to say that anyone wants to hear? In my small little world now I count. In that big old world of writers out there, chances are I won’t.
And I like counting. There’s the ugly truth of it all. In the very small pond in which I swim, I’m a relatively big fish. And I’m about to jump into an ocean where I will be less than a minnow.
This all sounds very dramatic, I know. In the end, it won’t be. I’m really not a drama queen. I will still be safe and secure in God’s hands and will find my way. I will still be His child. All will be well.
But right now, for this little moment, I wonder: Who am I going to be after I’m not who I’ve always been?
Written for Five Minute Friday. For more, see http://lisajobaker.com