Some moments feel like they’re moving in slow motion
Last Thursday around 1 pm was definitely one of those moments. In fact, as I think back to it, I remember it like I was watching it on a big screen, my heart pounding so loudly I could hear it. No, scratch that. My heart was pounding so loudly everyone around me could hear it. And I swear there was music.
I watched myself walk down the same hallway I’ve walked down for three and half years, through the security doors, and into the lobby still donned with piles of red balloons from the last party. I felt like everyone I passed was looking at me differently even though there’s no way they could have known. I had only just written the email not even an hour before.
See, this place has challenged me, beat me up, cared for, honored, tormented, and taught me more than I ever could have imagined it would. It’s been the education and experience of a lifetime, and I have no regrets. Zero. I’m thankful for all of it because it’s made me tough and sharp and confident and really damn good (at a few things, anyway). And I love what we’ve built. I’m proud of the work we’ve done. And I’m even now obsessed with the customers we have served.
But it’s also taught me a lot about trust and money and power and religion and friendship (I could say so much about the amazing humans I have worked with every day through the good, the bad, the ecstatic, and the ugly). And it’s reminded me of what really matters and how to know it when you see it.
There’s a season for just about any good thing
I almost walked out last November. I was angry about decisions I didn’t like or understand. But someone wise asked me a question that actually softened me. He asked me if God had released me yet.
It might sound manipulative or crazy to some, but it turns out that was the exact question I needed at that moment. I needed to be reminded that for whatever reason, I was where I was for a purpose. And I knew I wasn’t supposed to leave yet. And I knew it because leaving would mean letting people down—especially my team and my friends. And I didn’t want to be that person. I wasn’t interested in leaving a mess for someone else to clean up. Not my style.
In almost the same instant, a woman who had been talking about hiring me suddenly changed her mind and told me she could tell the season I was about to go through would be important for my development as a leader and that I needed to stay for what I would learn.
Now, whether or not that was God not “releasing” me, I don’t know. But I do know, I developed an overwhelming sense of calm about staying. I knew I was supposed to for a lot of different reasons.
Here, a little over a year later, everything is different. The team is robust and self-sufficient. And I know my time is almost over. I’ve made my contribution, I’ve learned my lessons, and now it’s time for the next adventure. And that same woman called me back a year later to hire the me who had weathered the storm and learned a few things along the way.
And that’s why on Thursday I gave my notice, heart pounding and all. I can hardly believe it. But stick with me, friends. As always, I’m just getting started. And I leave with nothing but gratitude for what’s soon behind me.