“So, what exactly are you doing?”
If I had $5 for every time I have been asked this question over the past six months, I’d be sitting on a nice chunk of change.
Let me explain: for the past five years, I have worked on communications for one of America’s most prestigious government agencies. I’m talking Top Secret, policy shifting, national security type information. I’ve had mind-blowing, absolutely terrifying, and unexplainable experiences at my job. Not to mention meeting very interesting and talented people.
My job was pretty much secure for life, I was making close to six figures, and the benefits were unmatched.
And in the fall of 2020, I walked away from it all.
And when I say it all, I mean everything. The security clearance, the paycheck, and the job security in the middle of a pandemic.
You see, I have felt called to an “unconventional” career for as long as I can remember. I was never clear on what it looked like or all it entailed, but I was certain that the 9-to-5 life wasn’t meant for me. And although all my previous jobs have been traditional—cubicle, manager, and working with a team—none of them ever felt right.
I always viewed the role as a temporary steppingstone, and no matter how much I initially enjoyed the work, eventually every job left me unsatisfied.
My Top Secret work was no different. In fact, I had grown immensely dissatisfied with my job over the past year, and I could sense that God was about to end my time there.
Last year, my husband graduated from dental school and was blessed with a job to solely support us. So, you would think I’d be overjoyed that the Lord finally opened my “exit” door, right?
Think again.
Now, don’t get me wrong, I was happy to have a break from my stressful job and not have to work to support myself. I have never been in this situation before, so I know a blessing when I see one.
And I knew wholeheartedly that God had directed me to leave my government job, but I quickly realized that the unconventional work that I’d always felt called to doesn’t always come with a glamorous transition. Especially when you didn’t line up another job because you’re pursuing your purpose—and you’re not fully sure what that means.
The Reality of Transitioning to Unconventional Work
- You’re suddenly thrust from daily interacting with co-workers and work friends to working alone on your computer. Nope, not even a boring zoom call to keep you company.
- Your fixed clock in-work-lunch-work-clock out schedule is replaced with attempts to be disciplined enough to create (and stick to) a schedule. No time cards or managers keeping you structured.
- The productivity benchmarks aren’t as clear as in your traditional roles. Shoot, you’re still trying to figure out what this new “role” looks like.
- And on top of all this, you constantly struggle to confidently answer that lurking question:
So, what exactly are you doing?
This question has been extremely challenging for me, from the first time a co-worker asked me this after learning of my plans to leave up until just recently as I chatted with a family member.
I had reasoned that this was because I was in the midst of trying to figure out my next steps. I mean, it’s quite difficult to explain a “job” that you’re still attempting to define.
But as I prayed for direction and wisdom, God answered me by posing a different challenge.
Could it be that beyond my uncertainty about my next steps lies a deeper uncertainty in my heart? And the confusion and lowkey judgment I felt from others who asked this question were merely my own projections?
As much as I hate the fact that most Americans have been conditioned to equate what they do with who they are, God revealed to me that I am no different. My what has simply been replaced with how.
Instead of letting Christ and His Word define me, sadly, I have allowed the idea of work to shape my identity. And this idea is far from unconventional.
I worked 10+ hour days at my last job. I juggled multiple projects each day and was constantly in a state of stress. Most times when leaving work, I would have to sit in my car and decompress for a moment because my mind and body were so wound up from the day’s activities.
I completed unimaginably large tasks on extremely tight deadlines, oftentimes at the expense of my health. I was beyond burnt out and many nights after work I could barely function.
My last job was the hardest job I ever had, and it required every ounce of everything in me. And although most could not know the details of my role, no one had to question whether or not I was working.
I was always busy, stressed, and exhausted. Surely, that is how most of us would define work.
But God? Not at all.
In Genesis 1, God spends six days creating the earth and all types of creatures, including humans. He accomplished a specific task for each day and when He was finished, He saw his work and called it good. Then, in Genesis 2:2 it says, “And on the seventh day God finished his work that he had done, and he rested on the seventh day from all his work that he had done.”
Although a steady pace and periods of rest were part of God’s original plan, they often don’t fit into our modern-day idea of work. The more you’re grinding and hustling means the harder you’re working and any hint of slowing down can be quickly deemed unproductive.
Because of the pace and demands of my government job, I had allowed this conventional definition of work to not only overshadow what God says about work, but also what He has said about me.
I am not what I do or how often I do it. I am a child of God who is worthy and special not because of how busy or productive I am but because Christ died for me. God’s love alone validates me.
I have replaced overwhelmingly busy and stressful projects that took up nearly half of my days with a task-oriented process. And once I have met the day’s goal, I can rest and be satisfied with my work.
Although it hasn’t been easy getting to this point, I am now starting to be comfortable with my transition to unconventional work because God has opened my eyes to the truth that:
You can be productive and still have peace.
No wonder traditional work never felt right.