I’m Done With This

“I’m so done with this!”

I said the words aloud to the air above my head just a couple of weeks ago.  I might have shouted them.

My frustration ran over as I worked in the shop room at home, the place where we ran an internet business for several years after closing our local retail business.  Standing there, gazing at the incredible mess, I saw no way to ever have a usable space again.

I meant the words.  I was ready to walk away, leaving the mayhem behind forever.  Let the kids deal with it after I’m gone.

“So done!”

But, it wasn’t true.

I wasn’t done at all.  I hadn’t accomplished anything I had come down here for.  Oh, I had moved a few things from one side of the room to another.  That stack under the window had started on the desk.  Now, it might stay where it was for another couple of years.  That would be okay with me!

I usually tell people I love words.  I like to play with them, teasing out meanings and quirky uses.  But, sometimes the words catch me at my own game.

Done means finished.  It implies completion.  Somehow though, when I use that phrase, “I’m so done with this,” it means, “I quit!”

“I quit!”

It doesn’t sound nearly as weighty as “I’m so done.”  And, it certainly doesn’t imply that I’ve accomplished anything.

You’ll be happy to learn that I’ve worked out a plan.  I’m setting a goal, not to tackle the entire space, but to move out at least one item a day until the task is complete.

No one else would know it to look at the room, but I’ve made (with a fair amount of help from the Lovely Lady and others) enough progress to be encouraged when I walk in now.

And, I’m looking forward to the day when I can turn the meaning of those words around and stand in the room saying, “I’m done with this!”

Done! 

Finished!

Complete!

I spoke with a young friend today, realizing that she is struggling a bit right now and I said similar words.

“He’s not done with you yet!”

We say that about God sometimes.  What we mean by the words is that He isn’t finished with what He’s doing.  And, He’s not.

The apostle for whom I was named said similar words over two thousand years ago in his letter to the folks at Philippi.

And I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns.”  (Philippians 1:6, NLT)

We somehow have an image, a dream really, of the process being once and done.  Bam!  God speaks and we’re a finished product.

That’s not how this life in Him works at all.

Step by step, day by day, with a long obedience in the same direction, we are being changed into the person He intended for us to become.

The phrase that comes so easily to our lips—”He’s not done with me yet.”—covers both meanings. First, He’s not finished with what He’s doing for and in us.  And secondly, He will never—NEVER—say, “I’m so done with you!”

He has said, ‘I will never leave you and I will never abandon you.’
(Hebrews 13:5b, NET)

He’s going to stick with the project!  Yes, it may take longer than we want; the process may be more painstaking than we anticipated.  But, He will never quit and walk away from us.

We sat with our old friends around the table last night and I read words (you can read them for yourself down below) from Henry Wadsworth Longfellow to them (I know, weird table conversation, huh?) from The Village Blacksmith.  They’re good words for us to remember, but I think we may need to amend them a bit.

Mr. Longfellow suggested that each day should see the end of the job we began that morning.  I have a feeling we simply need to see forward progress, perhaps a lot—maybe just a tiny step ahead, on the task at hand.

We keep moving toward the goal, toward the prize.

It’s up there—ahead of us.

And, we’re not done yet.

He isn’t either.

Oh.  I’ll keep working on the shop room, too.  Maybe the kids won’t have to deal with it after all.

 

 

“Toiling,—rejoicing,—sorrowing,
Onward through life he goes;
Each morning sees some task begin,
Each evening sees it close;
Something attempted, something done,
Has earned a night’s repose.”
(from The Village Blacksmith, by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow)

“Dimidium facti qui coepit habet” (He who begins is half done.)
(from the Roman poet, Horace)

© Paul Phillips. He’s Taken Leave. 2024. All Rights Reserved.

Finishing the Job

The Lovely Lady isn’t talking to me.  

No, it’s not for the reason you might suspect.  She’s not upset—not with me anyway.

I am frustrated.  I have been for weeks.  Tasks which have been set before me have been tackled with purpose and intent.  As uncomfortable as I am with those tasks, I want to complete them.

Wanting to is not the same as doing.

Trying is not the same as succeeding.

For a variety of reasons, I have been forced to move from several of the tasks to other ones before the first jobs were completed.  It doesn’t set well in my spirit.

Today, I spent a few hours measuring and visualizing a solution while considering a task I never wanted to begin in the first place.  

What I really mean is I stood in one place and, staring at the impossible mess, racked my brain to come up with a way out of the predicament I find myself in.  Dinnertime interrupted the aggravation—which only made me more aggravated.

I came home, having accomplished not a single task.  Not one.

I said she’s not talking to me.  She just knows I need a little space.  I’m not much for consoling platitudes.  They only frustrate me more.  She knows that.

She knows me.

I like that she knows me. 

Later this evening, I needed to retrieve something I had left at the site of my earlier frustration, so I told her I would be right back, explaining what I was doing.  

It would take a little longer than that.

As I walked in the door, the frustration of the day landed on me again like an unbearable weight on my chest.  It was hard for me to breathe for a moment.  But, as I walked back where the item I needed was stored, I noticed another task I had left undone days ago.

A thought hit me.  Why not just finish that little project?  I had been putting it off for days, feeling guilty every time I walked past, but never stopping to complete the work.

Tonight, I picked up the necessary tools and I finished one task.  Just one.

I walked out of there with my head held high.  When I got home, the Lovely Lady talked to me.

She talked to me.

I like that she knows me.

I read her part of a poem, one I remember from my childhood days.  You’ve likely heard it before.  A single verse from Longfellow’s The Village Blacksmith:

Toiling,—rejoicing,—sorrowing,
   Onward through life he goes;
Each morning sees some task begun,
   Each evening sees it close;
Something attempted, something done,
   Has earned a night’s repose.

My voice cracked as I read the words.  It does that.  More and more, these days.

It was only a small thing I completed.  

No.  It was a very small thing.  

It doesn’t matter.  I needed to feel the success of completion—of working at something that mattered, and finishing it.

I have often felt that way about life itself—about living my faith.  I need to do something that matters.  More than that, I need to complete the job.

Perhaps I won’t finish it today, as Mr. Longfellow’s blacksmith did.  But still, the goal is not to start a plethora of tasks.  The goal is to finish what’s been begun, be it one enterprise or a dozen.

I want to be able to say with the Apostle who wrote so many letters, that I have fought a good fight and have completed the race.  (2 Timothy 4:7)

It will only be true through perseverance.  It will only be true if the race is run in His strength and not my own.  

I lose interest when the going gets hard.  Zeal turns to disappointment; the heat of good intentions cools until there is barely a spark of dedication.

But, He knows me.

My frustrations, my sadness, my disappointments, He knows all of them.  And, in all of them, He never wavers in His faithfulness.  

I waver.  I gripe.  I lash out.

There is no limit to His persistent love. Share on X

But, there is no limit to His persistent love.  His mercies have no end.  Really.  In His faithfulness, His mercies are renewed every morning.  (Lamentations 3:22, 23)

Every morning.

Just when I need them to face the new day, with its frustrations and its challenges.  Mercies.

I like that He knows me.

I’ve got more tasks to complete.  

I think I’ll see what I can finish today.

I might even start something new.

 

My therapist told me the way to achieve true inner peace is to finish what I start.  So far today, I have finished two bags of M&Ms and a chocolate cake.  I feel better already.
(Dave Barry ~ American author/humorist)

 

Work willingly at whatever you do, as though you were working for the Lord rather than for people.  Remember that the Lord will give you an inheritance as your reward, and that the Master you are serving is Christ.
(Colossians 3:23,24 ~ NLT ~ Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004, 2015 by Tyndale House Foundation.  All rights reserved.) 

 

 

 

 

© Paul Phillips. He’s Taken Leave. 2017. All Rights Reserved.