I’m really not much of a quitter. In fact, when I talk about my decision to leave the classroom, I like to say that I retired from teaching. I feel like it has softer, sweeter connotations for the life I left behind. But I’ve also never turned in a two-week notice without tears in my eyes¹—most definitely for fear of letting that supervisor down. Anyways, when I do find myself at a crossroads between committing to the bit or knowing when to quit, I’m deeply uncomfortable with

I started writing this post while on a lunchtime break at Switchyards. I was celebrating the fact that I had successfully dodged all the Advent devotionals and ministry guides and six-week-long women’s Bible studies and podcast episode emergencies that have been threatening to beat me up for the last month or so.¹ Turns out that Three Job Sarah does not do a good job at writing for leisure. I’m sorry that I didn’t sit still this September, which then bled into my October. May

If you’ve known me at all in the last 15 years, then you’ve probably been witness to a flop era or two. (Perhaps most notably my 2015 and 2020 depression chops, respectively.¹) But in all these eras of not getting the thing I most wanted or felt like I deserved, watching someone else get it, or having it to myself only briefly, I’ve been left empty-handed and wondering, Is God being mean to me right now? And also, Why are all the good things happening to everybody else but me