Two Weeks' Notice

Would those who are grammatically inclined please confirm that this movie title should read "Two Weeks' Notice"?

Please consider this your "two weeks" notice that this blog will remain woefully unattended for the next two weeks.

I am in the middle of a very big transition: in just two weeks I will no longer be working as a grant writer for Plant With Purpose--the only post college job I've ever had. After I finish at Plant With Purpose, I will be preparing to move to Guatemala. (Lots to be excited about and try not to panic about.)

As my Bucket List at work nears the single digits, I have decided to take a blogging break to focus more time and energy on finishing well at Plant With Purpose. In addition to being an emotional mess, I also anticipate spending a considerable amount of extracurricular time happy houring with coworkers, compiling a Plant With Purpose Grant Writing Manifesto, and purging my desk of personal items such as my sling shot and bubbles, my trusty hammer, and the embarrassing Post-it note pledges I made to myself promising to finish XX proposal by 3 pm or that I will not check email until I finish writing the spring newsletter article.

These next two weeks will be good and hard and surreal. God has been building connections and giving me time to cultivate relationships that will allow me to do what I love to do in the country I would love to call home. I am excited for what's next, but it is going to be so tough to relinquish my role at Plant With Purpose and say goodbye to the coworkers that have become my family.

Over the next two weeks, if you find yourself checking back to the see if the blog is updated, please offer up a thought or a prayer for me as I finish my time at Plant With Purpose.

I would greatly appreciate prayers for focus, wisdom, and peace. Diligence, stamina, and grace. And for a sense of God's presence and even joy in these last days.

Thank you so much for your prayers and patience.

I'll see you back here in two weeks when I enter my temporary stint of "fun-employment" before moving to Guatemala. Also, check out the Plant With Purpose blog, where I will be sharing some reflections on my time there. 

A Monday Morning Pick-me-up

It's Monday morning and I have three weeks left at my job to organize 4 1/2 years of files, emails, and priorities for my successor. In addition to my normal job responsibilities AND completing an extensive government grant proposal--the 176 pages of instructions to submit a six page concept paper should explain my ever amping stress levels.

Needless to say, I'm feeling a little frenzied, hurried, helpless.

I want to reject this moment. This rolling out of bed. The mountain of unending tasks set before me. But I'm reminded of the words of Ann Voskamp in One Thousand Gifts:

"I will not desecrate this moment with ignorant hurry or sordid ingratitude."

When I say

I don't want this task.
I don't want this moment.
I don't want this job.

I am saying

I don't want this God.

And that is not what I want to be saying. That is not how I want to spend this morning or these next few weeks or my life--in ignorant hurry or sordid ingratitude.

Like my favorite Sara Grove's song, I want to "Add to the Beauty" instead of seething in stress.

The lyrics go like this,

And I want to add to the beauty
To tell a better story I want to shine with the light
That's burning up inside 

This is grace, an invitation to be beautiful
This is grace, an invitation

Yes, it's way too early on a Monday morning, but today is also an invitation to be beautiful.

And so before I hit the cubicle, I will take a moment to give thanks, to see beauty, to stack joy. You can't add to the beauty if you don't see the beauty in the first place.

The accumulation starts with acknowledgement, so before hurry can apprehend, I will stop and count the graces.

Today, Monday June 11, 2012, I am grateful for

1. The day I get to spend--in the same office!-- with my friend and coworker who usually works from Colorado. Welcome back, Corbyn! 
2. The chance to laugh and pray together at morning staff meeting.
3. The opportunity to grab lunch with a coworker before he leaves for Thailand and I leave for Guatemala.
4. The privilege of inviting others into the life-giving work of Plant With Purpose. 

Thank you thank you thank you thank you.

Now, let's start adding to the beauty!

Burnout Feels Like

Drowning

Like flinging and flailing and gasping for breath. Some days it feels like I’m floating facedown in the water. Waiting for rescue or waiting for death.

I can’t even remember what it felt like to swim.

Defeat

Burnout tells me leaving my job and moving to Guatemala is the ultimate failure, not a dream fulfilled. 

Like I’ve fought the battle and lost.

Like I’ve given up on getting better.

Not that I have failed, but that I am failure, will always be a failure.

Depression

Like not sleeping, not hoping, not caring.

Like laziness and anxiety, lethargy and restlessness, all rolled into one.

And crying, lots and lots of crying.

Loss

Like losing my dream job.

Losing my identity.

Losing my passion.

Losing my joy.

Losing my self-efficacy.

Losing my mind.

Burnout feels like I’ve turned into a drama queen. 

Writing this I know I sound melodramatic, but that’s what burnout has done to me. It really feels like this, and most days I can’t see past it. Most days it’s the only story I believe. The only story I have energy to believe.

It’s why I started this blog—to share a different story, a better story. To share the story of God’s transforming love. To share a story that doesn’t end in the burnout and the failing and the flailing. To remind myself that, as hard as it is to see past all of this, I can hope for the future. That the God who opened the doors for my dream job for a time will again plant the seed of hope and joy and passion in my heart. That He is not done with me. That He does not fail. That He does not flounder. That He will not give up on me.

That He will restore my joy.

Before Jesus started his ministry, God said of him: “This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased.” Matthew 3:17

Before Jesus performed miracles. Before he raised the dead. Before he called out the Pharisees. Before he fed the 5,000. Before he died on the cross. God was well pleased.

I know I’m no Jesus, but today I’d like to hope that God feels this way about all of his children. That God feels this way about me.

As I reflect on the poisons of burnout, I write in the antidote. I remember the Love. And I paste it on my mirror, write it in my journal, replace the endless word loop of criticism with this declaration of love. This is the story I will choose to believe. 

“This is my daughter, Aly, whom I love; with her I am well pleased.”