Grandpa Tom's Pick-up

I'm guessing it was a bad battery. Or bad cable connection. Or maybe even a bad alternator. I'm no mechanic. 

All I know is that after Grandpa Tom died we inherited is old, beat up, red Toyota pickup. How it made the 5 hour drive across the state to our house is another story. In September when I started my senior year of high school my brother and I were driving that bad boy to school everyday. It died at red lights. It died in the school parking lot. It died in our driveway. Jumper cables became our best friend. That guy might've been on his last leg but he was no quitter.

Unlike me.

It's easy for me to quit. Check out. Hang it up. Resign. Move on. Heck, sometimes I quit before I even get started.

Life's hard. Quit.

Things don't go my way. Quit.

No website views. Quit.

I forget that pursuing the life you are meant to live is not easy. There will be hardships. Obstacles. Struggles. Disappointments.

Quitting is just so easy. And I've found the more you do it the easier it becomes.

Sometimes there are legitimate reasons for quitting. You're overextended. Stressed out. Health problems. Bad timing. Negative environment. Need to simplify. 

Ahhhh, but I would suggest that generally we quit because it is hard. The self talk starts in. It wasn't going to work out anyway. Doesn't mean anything. I don't really care. Never cared. My heart wasn't in it. 

So many excuses for quitting my life. 

If asked, I'd tell you that I desire is to be a person of character. Someone who perseveres. Lives with purpose. Is wholehearted.

Does my life reflect that?

To really live that out means not listening to the world's version of success. To push through when every fiber of my being wants to give up. To ignore societal priorities and focus on what is right before me. To live the life that God has graciously assigned to me. Not compare.  

But my peripheral vision sees, retrieves and believes other versions. Other lives. Better lives. Preferred lives. Richer lives. Easier lives.

Looks may be deceiving. But I've bought in. Hook, line and sinker.

The option to quit looks mighty fine. Sweet surrender. Give up. Cop out. Abdicate. At least I'm in the company of royalty, right?

The problem is if I quit, who will do the things I am supposed to do? Who will be the person I am meant to be? Who will fill the gap? Who will be the mom? The sister? The daughter? The artist? If I quit I'll never know.

The heart of the matter is I need to accept who I am, where I am and what I am. In this way I might have a chance to realize my potential.

Recognize my limitations. Yes.

Work within my life's restraints. Yes.

Understand that change is inevitable. Yes.

Life ebbs and flows. If I quit now I'll never know what I was meant to be. To thrive I must push against the desire to quit. Time to practice what I preach.

Begin.

Focus.

Persist.

As for that red, bad boy Toyota pick-up? He did eventually bite the dust but not until giving it a good run. His battery was replaced and he lived out his remaining years on a marionberry farm. 

I can only hope that by not quitting I, too can give life a good run.