Introduction: The Question We Always Ask

This past Friday, I retired from my full-time career.

Even as I write those words, they feel a little strange.

For more than forty years, I’ve had a ready answer when someone asked a question that seems to come up almost immediately whenever adults meet for the first time:

“What do you do?”

It’s one of the most common questions in our culture.

And for most of our working lives, it’s easy to answer.

“I’m a teacher.”

“I’m an engineer.”

“I’m a consultant.”

“I’m a nurse.”

“I’m a program manager. Healthcare technology leader.”

But what happens when that chapter ends?

Over the past few years, as I planned my transition into retirement, I spent a lot of time researching the subject. In fact, it led me to create an entire website dedicated to helping others navigate that journey.

One theme came up again and again:

Identity.

Many retirees struggle not because they don’t know what they’re retiring from.

They struggle because they don’t know what they’re retiring to.

For years, their work has answered the question:

Who am I?

And when the work goes away, the question remains.

Thankfully, knowing this challenge was coming gave me time to think about my own answer.

And I’ve come to realize that the best answer has very little to do with retirement.

The Best Answer

As a follower of Christ, one answer rises above all the others.

What do I do?

Whatever God wants me to do.

That may sound overly simplistic at first.

But the older I get, the more profound it seems.

My purpose was never ultimately tied to a job title.

It wasn’t tied to a paycheck.

It wasn’t tied to an employer.

Those things mattered.

Some of them mattered a great deal.

But they were never the source of my identity.

Long before I was an employee, a manager, a consultant, or a retiree…

I was a child of God.

And I still am.

Scripture reminds us:

Notice what John does not say.

He doesn’t say:

“That is what we do.”

He says:

“That is what we are.”

The world often defines us by our accomplishments.

God defines us by our relationship with Him.

And that identity doesn’t disappear when a career ends.

Following the Assignment

One of the beautiful things I’m looking forward to in retirement is that it creates space to ask a different question.

Not:

“What do I have to do today?”

But:

“What is God inviting me to do today?”

Sometimes the answer may involve serving.

Sometimes learning.

Sometimes helping.

Sometimes resting.

Sometimes simply being present with the people He has entrusted to me.

The assignment may change.

The calling to follow Him does not.

Traveling with My Favorite Person

One answer I’m especially excited about is this:

I get to go on adventures with my wife.

Thankfully, she retired recently as well.

For decades, much of our lives revolved around schedules, responsibilities, deadlines, school calendars, work calendars, and obligations.

Now we have an opportunity to explore.

To travel.

To experience new places.

To create new memories.

To learn new things.

To enjoy God’s creation together.

The destinations themselves will be wonderful.

But the real gift is getting to share them with my best friend.

Being Dad to Adults

Another answer is:

I’m still a dad.

That role didn’t retire.

In many ways, it’s become even more interesting.

When our children were little, they believed almost everything I told them.

For years, they were convinced I was 119½ years old.

I considered that one of my finer parenting accomplishments.

Back then, they naturally looked to my wife and me for guidance.

Now they’re adults.

They make their own decisions.

Their own plans.

Their own mistakes.

Sometimes that’s wonderful to watch.

Sometimes it’s painful, especially the mistakes part.

As a father, I want nothing but the best for them.

And there are moments when I wish I could spare them from learning certain lessons the hard way, the way I did.

When they ask for advice, I give it. Sometimes they take it.

Sometimes they need to discover things for themselves, just as I did.

But part of becoming an adult is making your own way in the world, so I get it.

It’s a reminder that God loves them even more than I do—and His hands are much bigger than mine, His arms much stronger.

And that’s comforting, because even when I can’t walk every step of the journey with them, He can.

Grandalf

Then there’s one of my favorite answers of all.

I’m Grandalf.

Or at least that’s what my grandsons are attempting to call me.

The older one has it figured out.

The younger one—who isn’t quite two yet—still has some work to do. But I love hearing him attempt it.

Being a grandparent is one of life’s great surprises.

People told me it would be special.

They were right. More than I ever understood.

There’s something beautiful about getting a front-row seat to watch a new generation discover the world.

The wonder.

The curiosity.

The laughter.

The energy.

And perhaps best of all, getting to love them deeply without being responsible for every decision they make.

That’s a pretty good arrangement.

Other Adventures Still Ahead

Thankfully, retirement doesn’t have to be the end of productivity.

At least not for me.

There are still places to see. Adventures to explore. Pictures to take.

Blogs and books and poems to write.

People to encourage, maybe even mentor or coach.

Games to build.

Ideas to explore.

Languages and musical instruments to learn.

Ministries to support.

Friends to spend time with.

And perhaps a little consulting along the way.

Not because I need another identity.

But because God still has work for me to do.

Different work.

Maybe better work.

Certainly more intentional work.

A Different Way to Answer the Question

So now, when someone asks me:

“What do you do?”

My answer may take a little longer than it used to.

But that’s okay.

Because I’ve realized something important.

The most important thing about me isn’t what I do.

It’s whose I am.
I am a child of God.
Everything else flows from there.

Traveler.

Husband.

Dad.

Grandalf.

Writer.

Friend.

Retiree.

Whatever God wants me to be next.

A Final Encouragement

Whether you’re retired or not, sooner or later life will force all of us to confront the same questions:

Who am I? What do I do?

The world will offer countless answers.

Your career.

Your accomplishments.

Your failures.

Your possessions.

Your status.

Your labels.

But none of those things were ever meant to carry the weight of your identity.

Only God can do that.

And the good news is that He already has.

You are not defined by what you do.

You are defined by whose you are.

A beloved child of God.

And that’s an identity that never retires.

A Question to Sit With

If everything I do were taken away tomorrow…

who would I still be?