One of the most difficult things I have had to figure out after being laid off last year was how to introduce myself to others. Who we are has been fused so tightly to what we do that the question, “What do you do?”, pops up more frequently than we realise.

I’ve been asked this question when I meet up with old friends, at the immigration counter, and even when I am stopped by survey folks outside a train station.

It’s taken me quite a while to frame this particular chapter in my life as it’s not as straightforward a marker as starting a new job. So, the best way I have found to describe what I am doing—and to answer the question—is: “I’m retiring”.

My own answer has got me thinking: What do I really mean when I say I’m “retiring”? What does it say about who I am—and what I will do?

If you search online for images of people retiring, you’re likely to find pictures of elderly people looking into the sunset. It would seem that retirement is about entering a state of rest after having paid one’s dues and done one’s time.

So, when I mention to people that I’m retiring, they often tell me: “You’ve got a long way more to go.”

This is probably because I still have school-going children, which suggests that I still need to keep building up my nest egg.

Yet, many of my well-meaning friends are holding on to their careers even though their children have already left the nest, probably because sitting around doing nothing is a scary thought.

I can see why they might think this way. I am reminded of Genesis 2:15, which tells us that one of the purposes for which God created man was to work the ground. Perhaps some of us think that ceasing to work would mean losing our purpose.

Thinking this way, however, introduces a lot of fear.

This definition of retirement, I felt, was thus not adequate for me.

After losing or leaving a job, it is common to immediately start looking for another job, especially when there are bills to pay and family members to support. For many, leaving the world of paid work is not an option, so efforts are made to minimise downtime.

Those who have enough savings to tide them over an extended period may also look for another job immediately because many of us have been taught that we should always try to grow our savings, so that we will be prepared for the proverbial rainy day.

Or, some of us might look for another job simply because we live in a world that idolises exhaustion from work and views it as a badge of honour. We “humblebrag” about the hours we spend in the office, or reply “Busy!” whenever we are asked how things are going. We might even be hesitant to tell others if we aren’t currently being pushed to the point of exhaustion.

Why? Because being constantly busy means that you are needed by others. When you get laid off, you are essentially being told that you are no longer needed, which can lead to self-doubt. So,

This was not how I felt when I got retrenched. While I needed time to process what had happened to me, I had little desire to be tired again.

This is the definition I’m leaning towards because the analogy best describes my current phase in life. As I head into my 50s, the excitement of the starting gun is wearing off. I believe I have had my share of racing, putting pedal to the metal, going as fast as I can, for as long as I can. I have also gained very precious lessons in the laps that I have completed and made amazing friends along the way.

Being laid off has provided me with a pit stop. It has reminded me that the second half of the game need not be played in exactly the same way as the first half (as I learnt from the book, Halftime, by Bob Buford), and that we should be intentional about how we finish this race.

Maybe we don’t have to keep going round and round the track. Maybe we can exit and swing by the grocery store, or give a friend a ride to the nearest train station.

And so, I’m putting on new tires to fit my new circumstances. I’m taking my faith deeper into reality and looking for different kinds of work. I believe that there is a lot of life-changing and community-transforming work that needs to be done, work that a capitalistic society may not want to pay for.

At the end of his life, the apostle Paul wrote: “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith” (2 Timothy 4:7).

This is a remark I often hear, and to which I will inevitably nod.

Yes, I am not blind to the realities of life, nor to the responsibilities I have to my family.

So I’m taking things one small step at a time. I don’t have a five-year plan or even a three-year plan. I’m not saying “no” to taking on a normal paying job if the mission fits. But, for the foreseeable future, I’m opening my heart to those left behind in the wake of economic progress, who are victims of the broken promises of trickle-down economics.

Some of us think of loving our neighbour only when we have spare resources, whether in terms of time, money, or emotional strength. Perhaps it’s because the worldly life is often built on the basis of self-sufficiency, which is something that many of us aim for in our professional careers.

This shift in priorities can cause a fair bit of anxiety, as it departs from what everyone else is usually doing. Thankfully, in the past few months, I have had the opportunity to fellowship with individuals who are serving others. Their accounts of how God sustained them through trials and challenges inspire me and give me tangible reassurance of God’s goodness.

By God’s grace, we’ll cross each river when we get to it, one at a time.

I know that many of you could be going through your own experience with retrenchment, or facing very real anxieties with job uncertainty. If you’d like to get in touch, you can reach me at

I’ll do my best to get back to you.