By Dr. Gladys Childs
Have you ever poured everything into a role only to wake up one day and realize the thing you were grasping for was emptiness?
I have. It was May, and I was standing in line in my academic regalia at graduation.
The faculty chair looked at me with a smirk and said, “You must be so embarrassed and humiliated.” I smiled and answered, “Not at all. I know what happened. And so does everyone who matters.”
Ambitious Traps
It started innocently enough.
One ordinary afternoon, the provost asked me to consider stepping in as interim dean of the School of Arts & Letters. I wasn’t aiming for it. I was content as department chair, teaching students I loved, summers slow enough to belong to my son. But the conversation stirred an old dream I had shelved: university leadership.
My husband and I weighed the job as wisely as we could. The workload would spike. The schedule would tighten. But we reasoned, Why not try it? If I don’t like it, I won’t apply for the permanent position. So I said yes.
The first dean’s council meeting felt like a boxing match. I quietly decided I wouldn’t play their game and met with each dean one-on-one, and it worked. Summer stayed calm. The executive coach I hired helped brace for the fall. On paper, everything looked in place. But inside, small cracks were forming.
Running on Empty
By midyear, I was running on fumes.
Sleep had become a luxury. Meals happened in fragments. My inbox overflowed. I smiled because people loved the results—programs saved, new initiatives launched, attitudes changing.
From the outside, I looked strong. Inside, something essential was slipping from my grip. One afternoon, a student looked straight at me in class and asked, “Do you even want this job?” The room went still. I said yes, but my own voice sounded thin.
For the first time, I admitted to myself silently that I was miserable, and no, I didn’t want the job.
A Moment Everything Changed
To be honest, I forgot to include God in my decisionmaking.
When the search for the permanent role opened, I already knew I didn’t want it. Yet tangled complications made applying feel like the only choice. I convinced myself that securing the job would resolve them. Instead, things unraveled.
I made it to the final three candidates. But then the whispering began—emails, hushed conversations, subtle glances. A tiny group of faculty orchestrated a quiet rebellion, spreading lies and threatening a no confidence vote against the provost if I got the job.
Suddenly, the path I had worked so hard to reach felt like a trap. The provost called me in and said, “We need you to stay one more year as interim.” He promised the permanent role would be mine afterward. I sat in that office, the weight pressing down, and remembered the conversation with my husband: “If you don’t like it, you can walk away. You don’t need this.”
So I calmly and simply said, “No.”
Lifting the Weight
People were shocked.
The president and provost were furious at me. A few genuinely couldn’t understand why I would step away from the position. But the moment the words left my mouth, a weight slid off my shoulders.
A sense of peace resurfaced. And, the coup plotters celebrated. Walking away taught me something I wish I’d learned sooner. Sometimes release is the holiest courage we will ever practice. Ambition can turn into an idol so quietly that we mistake its weight for purpose. But fullness waits in different places.
As Jesus said, “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light” (Matthew 11:28–30 ESV).
Fullness didn’t wait at the top rung for me.
It waited in the return, in remembering who I was and whose I was. I let go of the empty thing I was chasing and embraced the better thing God had for me. Saying no wasn’t failure; it was surrender.
It was choosing the life God offers over the hollow success I had been pursuing. If you’ve ever pursued something that left you empty, take heart: proper rest and fulfillment come when we stop running and turn to God.
Letting go of empty pursuits led me to become an author and host of the TV show Bare Faith, where I explore how God meets us in our hollow places. Now, I help others stop chasing emptiness and step into a life that truly fills.
Dr. Gladys Childs hosts the TV show Bare Faith, where raw faith and deep pain meet a relentless God. Known as the “Truth Doctor,” she names the lies that stand between people and God’s truth. Pastor’s wife, author, speaker, former religion professor, and boy mom, Gladys speaks with authority, heart, and real-life grit. Learn more at gladyschilds.com.
