I want to quit. I want to take a signed resignation letter to the desk of whoever gave me my current life and give my two weeks notice. Then I want to consider my options and sign up for a new life—one with better benefits, cooler digs, and dogs that actually listen to my commands. Starting today, I am no longer Amy the Blogger; I am now Amy the Supreme Court Justice. If only quitting life was that easy…
I am tired of being in this place in my life. I hate that nice girls finish last, that the good guys don’t always win, and that some stories don’t have happy endings. Yet I want to believe that a nice girl can do well for herself, that the good guys will win [the heart of the nice girl], and that my story will have a tremendously happy ending. However, nothing seems to change, except me, but not my circumstances. For instance, where’s my cushy writing job? Is it hiding in a land far away with Mr. Right and my diamond engagement ring? I’m trudging on learning better ways to cope with my anxiety and depression, the world outside spins merrily on. And I’m still here.
Sometimes here is a really hard place.
Quitting is the easy thing to do. I can simply throw my hands in the air, announce “I quit” to the world, and give up. I know I have a choice to live life, even when it hurts, or to quit. Maybe I could sit under a broom tree like Elijah and wait to die. I mean, if anyone ever tried to quit life, Elijah did in 1 Kings. He basically says, “Look, God, all Your prophets are dead. I’m the only one left and I’ll be dead soon, too. I’m gonna sit under this tree and welcome death.” Of course, God had other plans for Elijah and cared for Elijah during his “two weeks notice” (Read more at 1 Kings 17).
I won’t quit life just yet, even though I’m tempted. Besides, I don’t think there are any broom trees growing here in Eastern Pennsylvania anyway.