Hello,
If I were to ask you to tell me about a present you received that you really loved—for whatever reason—what comes to mind?
A recent gift that comes to mind for me is the book my oldest son, Nolan, gave me for my last birthday. He turned 18 a month before my birthday and this was the first year that he, of his own volition, bought me a present. He’s developed a real interest in 19th century Russian literature and last year we read The Brothers Karamotoz together as if we were in our own private book club. Though I did not enjoy the book in the least, I certainly enjoyed our time discussing it. For my birthday, he bought himself and me each a copy of War and Peace, which has nearly 365 chapters. Thus, if the reader commits to just a chapter a day, they will finish the book in just under a year. Nolan’s gift, then, was really the gift of time together. Even more special to me was what he wrote on the inside of the book where he told me how I instilled in him a love of reading and how much he enjoyed our shared interest in talking about what we read.
As I write this, I’m just about at my half birthday, which is to say that I am about halfway through this tome. In the first few weeks, we would talk about each chapter daily but we have since devolved into me asking him, “Where are you?” and him telling me that he’ll catch up at some future time. This is not to say that he is not enjoying the book–it’s simply to say he is a college freshman who is also a collegiate athlete, so he’s been a little busy. My ability to keep on track should also not be mistaken for my enjoyment of the book. In my opinion, it’s better than The Brothers Karamotoz, but that doesn’t mean it’s a page-turner. I’m reading this because I love the fact that my son wanted to read it with me. That’s the gift.
I realize that if somehow my copy of War and Peace ended up in a used book store or at a garage sale, and someone saw the inscription from my son and my notes in my copy, they probably wouldn’t want my book. Certainly, the resale value of the book now that it is used is less than what my son paid for it when he bought it. However, my copy with the inscription is priceless to me. It’s literally the thing I would take with me if my house were on fire.
‘Tis the season of gift giving. Luckily, we receive some gifts we really like. We’ve wanted them or the person who gave us the gift got or made us something that shows they really listen to, notice, and care about us. Other gifts are those we may not connect with and possibly regift to someone else because while nice, it’s not really our taste. Finally, there are those gifts that no one would want so you’re not sure how you ended up with it. These are the ones you might wrap up and toss into a humorous holiday gift exchange.
Jobs, like gifts, can be tricky. What if you accidentally received the wrong job—the one meant for someone else? Or what if you finally got the job you’d been asking for, only to realize it wasn’t what you thought it would be? It’s not necessarily bad, but it just doesn’t fit you. It’s like slipping on a shirt that looks amazing on the hanger but doesn’t look good when you try it on.
Like gifts, sometimes we get a job that we have always wanted. Picture Ralphie opening up his Red Rider BB Gun with the compass in the stock. You’ve prayed for it. You’ve worked hard for it. You’re over the moon to get it. Other jobs are more similar to the pink bunny suit that Raphie’s aunt made him. He didn’t want it and yet somehow he had to put it on and pretend as if he liked it.
What I’ve learned is that, much like a gift, the value of a job often comes from what we put into it and what we choose to take from it. At first glance, jobs might seem like a perfect match for what we want or need. But once we’re in them, we sometimes find they don’t align with our expectations—or who we’ve become. And that’s okay. It doesn’t mean that you are bad or the job is bad; it just might mean it’s not the right fit for you anymore.
Personally, I’ve had some jobs I’ve loved. Ones where I literally jumped for joy when I got the offer. Ones that kept me up at night because I didn’t hear back if I was moving on but I really, really wanted it and thought the interview went well. I’ve also had jobs where I didn’t sleep at night because I was riddled with anxiety about something job-related and I knew I needed to get out. When I am in the wrong job, I think about the fact that there is someone out there who is praying for the job I have. They would be the perfect fit and what I have would make their dreams come true.
Is your job still the gift you thought it would be? Or could it hold a deeper value that’s waiting to be uncovered? Sometimes, the beauty of a gift—or a job—lies not in what it is, but in what it makes possible. Maybe it’s an opportunity to grow in ways you hadn’t expected, to connect with others in meaningful ways, or to contribute to something bigger than yourself. And if the job you have feels more like an ill-fitting gift, ask yourself: Is it something I can reframe, repurpose, or regift to someone who would treasure it? Sometimes the best way to honor a role we’ve outgrown is to make room for someone else whose dreams it could fulfill while seeking a new role that reignites our passion.
Much like Nolan’s gift of War and Peace, jobs can be so much more than they appear at first glance. Just as the book is not simply a book, a job is not simply a paycheck. It can be a vessel for connection, purpose, and growth if we’re willing to look beyond the surface.
As you step into the new year, consider this: What could your job become if you approached it with fresh eyes? What possibilities might it hold if you allowed yourself to see beyond the daily grind? And if it’s time for a change, what new opportunities might be waiting to become your next priceless gift?
~Heather
P.S. I saw a great video recently about the importance of inclusive education, or ensuring all students have access to the learning in the classroom. Even if you are not an educator, you will appreciate my Catch of the Week, the video Shelley Moore: Transforming Inclusive Education. At the very least, it may inspire you to go bowling!
P.P.S. Please remember to...
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