You’ve heard and said this phrase before, but probably don’t know that the medieval poem Troilus and Criseyde, penned by Geoffrey Chaucer during the 1380’s, is considered by most to be its origin.
There’s your useless bit of trivia for the day.
For the last two hours I have alternated between the fetal position and a renewal of my intimate acquaintance with the throne of porcelain. My face has that lovely gray, haggard look familiar to all who may release the contents of their stomachs, via their esophageal passageways, at any moment. There’s a small bruise on my “elbow pit” encircling an even smaller, red puncture wound, left behind yesterday by the phlebotomist who relieved me of some blood for a CBC panel. I would describe my hair as “wild,” but the term is far too banal for the masterpiece that juts out every which way from upon the top of my head.
Yes. Very glamorous.
This seems as good a time as any to share the following with you:
In the summer of 2000, about six weeks shy of my sixteenth birthday, I took an after-school job, paging for the library. Never did I imagine that, the better part of two decades later, I would still be doing library work – from paging to the busyness of the front desk to the detail-oriented tasks of technical services. The passing years have held many milestones and changes – high school graduation, college, marriage – yet the library and my place within it have remained constant.
Just as I did not imagine that so much of my life would be devoted to this unique and necessary form of community service, the possibility of a long and ongoing battle with illness never entered my mind. None of us have control over whether or not such things become part of our reality. This struggle, for better or worse, marks each moment of my days. Thus I find myself, however begrudgingly, brought to a moment of decision.
As the saying goes, the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak. At this time, I must acquiesce to that weakness. Therefore, I resign my position as Technical Services Specialist, effective June 30, 2017.
It’s time. I don’t know what lies ahead, but I know that this is passing into the behind. How seventeen years could have come and gone so quickly is a mystery to me. I possess many good memories. I believe that I have done work that matters, work that contributes to the proper functioning of a community.
“Librarian” is now a descriptor that drops from my list. (Or, rather “library clerk,” since I don’t have an MLS degree, but nobody outside of the Dewey Decimal world knows what that means). Yet I do not feel bereft. Jobs are jobs, not identities. They provide money to pay bills, not meanings for life. I remain entirely myself.
And really – I have never been career oriented. There were brief moments when I flirted with the idea of becoming a teacher or a lawyer, but what I’ve always wanted to do is write. Climbing ladders and management positions and corner offices have never featured in my dreams. At age nearly-33, I am content to be an author/awesome homemaker/professional sick person (well, okay, I could do without that last one). This good thing must come to an end so that another may begin.
I look forward in hope.
15 thoughts on “All Good Things Must Come to an End”
You’re so young. I’m sorry you have to go through this. Any words of comfort I would craft you already have received from God.
A friend asked if this was a difficult choice to make. It really wasn’t. I’d rather not be sick, sure, but I’m curious to see what the future holds.
Marie, your attitude is good. And, I am going to stand excited WITH YOU to see what the Lord has for you next. (((xo)))
😦 I’m so sorry, Marie! May God continue to uphold you and help you as you make the transition (and hopefully find your health along the way).
Thank you. 🙂
As someone who has known you from “the early days” at the library, I am excited for what God has for your future. As you so eloquently stated, “jobs are jobs, not identities” (or words similar) and I couldn’t be more in agreement with that statement. You have fought (and continue to do so) the good fight, balancing work with your health. Now it’s time to focus on your health. Our love and prayers are and will always be with you!
You’re in my prayers, Marie. I wish I had a tenth of your gumption, and a few drops of that positive outlook.
YOU are awesome.
I’m pretty sure you’ve got gumption yourself, brother. 🙂
Sorry to hear that you’re so ill. I hope that you will be well soon. May the Lord, who is near you, make His Presence felt by you even in the most difficult of days and nights. May you be filled with His Spirit of peace as you surrender to His will.
Your neighbor at Testimony Tuesday.
I did receive your msg yesterday but was occupied with his Mom’s funeral. Sounds like you are once again very miserable. I am so sorry. Then came your announcement to quit. Good idea. Hopefully you can get you system built up amid lots of REST after you become a nonworking lady. Wish you well. Hugs!!!!
Oh friend, I needed to read this. I resigned my call at my job. It is an unexpected change and I still don’t know what’s next for me either. Praying for you sweet friend!
Visiting as many FMF members as possible. So nice to meet you. Sorry you are so ill. Prayers that this to shall pass.