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When to Quit

When I've done all the good I can do, in a place, with a group.  When the even better I'd like to be doing isn't working for someone who's throwing their weight around.  When the road seems blocked up ahead and I struggle a while and can't find any way to get through.  When I'm absolutely convinced there's no more chances for me to keep working on making things better.  When the people around me want something better for themselves, personally, rather than what seems (to me) to be best for the common good, long term.

Sadly, it's become quite a pattern in my life.  In multiple cities, and churches, and jobs.  I don't regret any decisions I've made to quit.  Not one.  What kills me is the left behind opportunities, the wistful longing, the sick feeling of loss, and the knowing.  That if so-and-so had just listened to me, had just let me keep going, then we could have broken on through to a whole new level of awesome, but for various reasons, too often, my particular vision touched things that they wouldn't let go of.

Maybe if I was better at being cool, kissing up, or playing along.  Maybe then I'd quit less.  Maybe if I could chill out more and not push the pedal down all the way to the floor.  Maybe if I cared less about making things better, and better, and better.  Maybe if I didn't always want to do something else MORE.

But if I was better at all of those things, I'd be worse.  If I was like that, then I wouldn't be able to bring change.  And what purpose is there in belonging to something that does not want to change, to improve things?

Somewhere, someday.  Maybe.  I'll get to make awesome.

I just need the right mix and timing.

Anon, then...

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