I love a good written procedure.

Whether it’s because I’m type A, ISTJ, Enneagram 6w5, or just because, I like to have all the steps neatly laid out, one by one, in a clear and logical manner. I was asked recently what’s one of the accomplishments I’m proudest of at work, and my honest answer was completing a policies and procedures manual for my unit. It’s a great resource to have on hand. Everyone can be trained according to the same method to the same standard. If you get stuck, you can refer back to it for guidance. It makes my heart happy. And my unit had been without one for a long time, so we needed it!

Now that you know how much I love written procedures, imagine the shock I felt last night when I realized that in two short months—less than, if you’re counting days—almost the entirety of the policies and procedures manual I labored so long and so passionately over will be obsolete. O b s o l e t e. Meaningless. Useless. Trash. Destined for the shred bin.

Think about it: I poured many hours into the manual over the course of several months. And soon, none of that will matter. 8 months we’ll get out of it. Was it worth the time? All the effort to arrange the topics just so? The paper and ink to print them? (Here people who love digital over hard copy will give a resounding NO!). I was so proud of myself for that manual, friends, and when my unit goes live with a new system August 1st, it will not matter one bit.

It was not a good moment, let me tell you, but after the initial shock, my feelings changed. (Totally a God thing.) Instead of being overcome by bitterness and the weight of futility, I felt awe and humility.

I can’t remember what exactly brought on the revelation. I was reading either the end of Genesis or the middle of Acts. Whatever it was, in the midst of my reading, it hit me. My policies have a very limited shelf life. I completed the project December 2018. They won’t even survive a whole year! And then I thought about how the Word of God will never be obsolete. It’s always full of meaning. It’s very useful “for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, that the man of God may be complete, equipped for every good work” (2 Timothy 3:16-17). It’s not going to be thrown in the trash. As Peter says, quoting Isaiah, “All flesh is like grass, and all its glory like the flower of grass. The grass withers, and the flower falls, but the word of the Lord remains forever” (1 Peter 1:24-25).

My word is nothing compared to the living and abiding word of God! Thank God for the futility of our work! In moments when we see how small and unimportant we are, we see how great and mighty God is.

The grass withers, and the flower falls…and the policy manual will degrade in a landfill. That’s the nature of our efforts on earth. We do not remain in this life forever, and neither do our creations. Like I talked about in my last post, others will come after and take my place. Hopefully someone else will write some entirely new, paperless procedures for the new system that will be used for many years. I am not the be-all, end-all. And I’m not meant to be. Truth is, I matter very little, and that’s not something to grieve. God alone is and was and always will be.

The procedures manual was a good resource, even if only for a few short months, and so my effort wasn’t entirely wasted. I’m thankful God allowed my nerdy tendencies to push me to provide some help to my unit in this way. It is enough. I can let go. I—and the unit I leave behind—are free to create and embrace whatever’s next. Hallelujah!

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Title credit: “Vapor” by Gungor