Opinions expressed in this piece are solely those of the author.
It’s a glorious summer morning. Outside, on my bright orange swing, the sun is rising just over the barn. The air is filled with bird song. Steam rises from my coffee cup. I linger to savor the final drop, and then it’s time.
As I rise at last from the swing, I can feel it. There’s a sense of resignation at the thought of moving into another day of work. Another day of waiting. Another day of the pressure that is part of this season and time. It’s the slightest weight on my spirit and mood.
Resignation.
For several days now, that word has lingered in my mind, and I’ve been thinking about how easy it is to let oneself slip there. We find ourselves in long, dry seasons of boredom and monotony or tempestuous epochs of strain and travail. Worn down by life, we become resigned to the toil and accustomed to disappointment, clutching the remnants of a fading hope.
“It will always be like this. Things will never change.” Such is the sound of resignation.
Today, I shall dip into the well of my own experience in the Land of Resignation. As a fellow traveler there, I can tell you that it doesn’t have to be a permanent stop. We don’t have to keep living “resigned to.” Here are some travel tips to help you navigate through it.
First of all, I can mindfully counter a “resigned to” mindset by cultivating hope. When anticipation replaces resignation, life becomes exponentially easier. There are many colorful dreams in my heart that keep me motivated to stay in the game. I know that good things are coming and that I won’t be here forever. Those dreams keep my spirits up, and when they are long in coming, yet still my resolve doesn’t waver. My current situation is only preparing me for what is ahead.
Secondly, I combat a “resigned to” attitude by “resigning from.” I resign from the things that steal my inner peace. Sometimes that means I put down my phone and unplug from the constant flood of news and opinions, i.e., I resign from the chaos.
Constant consumption of social media and cable news is exactly like standing in a crowded room with a thousand voices shouting at once. We were not meant to live like this. In the din and roar, we can scarcely hear our own thoughts, and we surely cannot hear the quiet voice that calms the soul.
Over and over, I resign from fear. In these days, there is plenty of opportunity for it, yet fear is the blackest of thieves. I refuse to let it rule me.
I also resign from the need to control everything. One day recently, when I felt the old temptation to control, I simply told God, “I resign from the Office of Control. I will not try to manage this anymore. It’s in your hands now.”
In a real sense, I fired myself, and I stayed fired. Which, of course, was when I began to see answers to my prayers in new and wonderful ways. That resignation ushered much peace into my life, and I have no plans to come out of retirement.
Another powerful antidote for a “resigned to” heart is knowing what I’ve been assigned to, and therein lies the hope of which I speak. I know what my assignment is, and that purpose gives me a reason to live. It puts my feet on the floor every day, and in the face of hardship or setbacks, I do not quit. I’ve been assigned to a special work on behalf of many others. I will not fire myself from that. Rather, I accept it.
Just as I’ve been assigned to a task, there are things that have been assigned to me, and it’s so important to know this. Strength has been assigned, and joy, and the two of them work together. Wisdom, too, has been assigned, and I won’t travel on without it.
Humor and laughter, carbonated happiness, are also my lot, and I love to share them with others. These two things have been a great boon to our family. Through the roughest of times, we could see the funny in life, and it bonded us together. Our sons used to call me a trouble laugher because I would get the giggles when reporting their latest escapades to their father (aka judge, jury, and executioner), but in truth, it saved my sanity. Clearly, they all lived to tell about it, and so to them I say, “You’re welcome!”
To all who are laboring through the Land of Resignation, I say this: Aren’t you ready for a change? Aren’t you ready to resign from fear, to resign from chaos? If you’re exhausted, aren’t you ready to do what I did and resign from the Office of Control?
If what we are doing isn’t working, it’s time to examine our old thought patterns and habits and to reach for something new. It’s time to remember what we’ve been assigned to and what’s been assigned to us. This is how we can truly live while we are still alive.
