I’ve been thinking about this for a long time… how insignificant we are, how minuscule our accomplishments, how small and unseen each of us seem.
Why give birth to a child, when having to raise her/him would be an extra load in your life, an extra burden on the monthly expense, extra hours spent feeding, changing diapers, and training? Why write another song when so many have been written, sung, and enjoyed? Why suffer torture for Christ when it would be so easy to say, “He is not my Savior anymore?” Why write another novel, another book, another article, when it’s all a waste of paper and energy?
Does our work matter at all, amidst the vortex and whirlwind of the others around us?
Why do we keep pushing on, the bound prisoners, the weary mothers, the exhausted artists? Why do we do this to ourselves?
Does anyone care? Do any know of the hours, the painful, tortured days and months spent striving for the impossible dream—for something?
Would it not be easier to throw everything to the wind, to forget the years spent over dreams that could never be? Would it not be simple to retrace one’s steps and fall back into the predictable, comfortable existence of ‘before’, drifting through life,with no definite, unrelenting resolve or dream that pushes one to the brink?
And the looming question… if through it all, you have done it: you have accomplished the calling of your life…. And no one notices. No one cares.
The choice is yours. To do…or not. To give up running where the brave dare not go, to step down the ladder because the last few rungs cause too much pain.
What is it that pushes one on, even when all seems lost? What causes one to endure the pain and loneliness of practice, of work, of persecution, of groping through a tunnel and finding no light?
Why is it that there are some who would not give up, no matter what?
The answer is simple: and although this may not apply to every person who have gone through trials and labor to emerge triumphant, I believe it rings true for most artists, most writers—for most of the people who have a dream, a goal they will not give up for anything.
They did not give up because, though the pain of striving, of living for and actually doing something is great, the pain of not doing, not achieving is far, far greater.
An unreachable star surpasses no star at all.
That is why a mother tenderly raises her child even when she/he ‘destroys’ the mother’s previous life, upsets her schedule completely, refuses to let her sleep a wink at night.
The pain and sorrow of losing that precious child is far beyond the temporary pain and sleepiness of caring for the baby.
That is why artists and musicians press on, through poverty and neediness, to bring beauty and enjoyment out of paint and sound. There was something to live for, something to hold onto when all else would not, could not satisfy that hunger in them.. the hunger to create. Not only to survive life… but to thrive. Not to be simply doing, but to be.
That is why a Christian goes through persecution, trials and tribulations, his eyes fixed on his Savior and God… because the abyss of a life without Him, the purposelessness of a life without his Creator, the very thought of there being no God is terrifying beyond comprehension. That is why we hope… because without that hope, without that faith in Someone Unchanging and Eternal, there is nothing in the world to live for.
That is why martyrs could die for their faith. They can gladly give up their lives for the light, the Light who has placed meaning in their lives
And that is why I write. Day after day, week after week I struggle, I cry, I drag the pen across the paper…and when nothing happens(yet)…I continue.
Because the pain of not writing brings pain—deep, abiding, unendurable pain—incomparably greater than what I’ll experience if I keep pushing on.
So yes, I give up.
In fact, I’ve given up already. I’ve decided to give in to that small little voice, that gut feeling of letting go of something since it’s too hard. It will hurt, but I’m not looking back. I’ve told myself I’ll never give in, never give up and keep pressing on… but I will. I am giving up.
And I’m thinking I’ll not be regretting my choice either.
The title above says it all. I give up.
I give up on giving up.
It’s just not worth it.