I went to the field in my mid-twenties with a two-year commitment. No need to think about “life after the field” because most of life would be “after the field.” 

Year-by-year it turned into “life on the field,” until I couldn’t picture anything else. When I glanced decades into the future, I saw myself retiring from the field and only then repatriating. There was no need to think about life after the field. 

Far far too early to contemplate retirement, my life abroad shifted. Here I was, back in my passport country, mid-life and wondering if I had personally peaked. Would life ever feel as interesting or as meaningful?

Whether you’ve left the field or not, you have probably wondered similar things. What will life look like when you’ve experienced a major shift that in many ways, feels more like a setback than a step forward?

Recently I read Life After Power: Seven Presidents and Their Search for Purpose Beyond the White House by Jared Cohen. By the third president, I began to think, “Hey, wait a minute, presidents and cross-cultural workers have more in common than I would have guessed!”

I became so excited I asked my podcast cohost Bernie Anderson to read the book so we could discuss it on the podcast. You can listen to our episode here. I can’t stop thinking about these paths and the hope that they offer when you wonder if life can hold purpose after the field.

I’ll share about each president and the path for purpose you could find yourself on one day:

1. Thomas Jefferson: You build something for future generations

For Jefferson, being president wasn’t the highest goal. (His gravestone lists three accomplishments, and “president of the United States” isn’t one of them!) What he really was, was a lifelong learner, so after the White House he decided to start a university. He transitioned from politician to entrepreneur. He had to cast a vision, build a team, and raise money. And here’s the fun part: in the early 1800s, there weren’t exactly professors lining up on every corner. He had to go find them!

Then came student riots that nearly shut the whole thing down. (Some things never change.) He didn’t get to see everything the University of Virginia would become, but it’s still standing today.

Some of you will leave the field and pour yourselves into something for the next generation, and you may never see how it all turns out. That’s okay. Build it anyway.

2. John Quincy Adams: You have a surprise new focus

Poor John Quincy. Following in the footsteps of a famous dad (I know some of you can relate), he served one disappointing, contentious term and left so bitter he skipped his successor’s inauguration. Done. Washing his hands of it.

Then he tried farming. Turns out he wasn’t a farmer. So, sort of on a lark, he ran for the House of Representatives, which was a massive step down for an ex-president. At that point, he wasn’t chasing a calling, Adams just needed something to do.

Back then, people could send petitions to Congress that would be read aloud if you could find a representative to read them. John Quincy decided he’d read anyone’s. He became “the petition guy.” When the Quakers sent him their petitions against slavery, he read those too, and petition by petition, he became a champion for abolition. Doing the math, he spent four years as president and seventeen in the House. His work on abolition left a lasting legacy. (Bernie and I both flipped out over this: young Abraham Lincoln was in Congress at the end of John Quincy’s life!)

Your next chapter might not be on your radar at all, and the thing that looks like a demotion may become the work you’re most known for.

3. Grover Cleveland: Sometimes you go back.

Cleveland’s first term as president went well. Then he lost his re-election bid, and you’d think that would be that. But four years later he ran again, and he won. (He was the only president to serve two non-consecutive terms until Donald Trump.)

What I love is why he ran. It wasn’t “I miss being president.” It was “I miss the work.” He wanted back in. His second term, unfortunately for him, was not like the first. Different country, different circumstances, different outcomes. 

Some of you will go back to the field, maybe to the same place, maybe not. It can be gratifying and important work, but don’t expect it to feel like the first time around.

4. William Howard Taft: You get your deferred dream

This was one of our favorites in the book. All Taft ever wanted was to sit on the Supreme Court. Instead, life kept handing him other jobs, and out of the most beautiful sense of duty, he said yes. He was the first civilian governor of the Philippines, next he was vice president, and finally the president. One would think this was his preferred path. However, as an example, when he had a chance to leave the Philippines and take a seat on the Supreme Court, he stayed because he didn’t want to leave a job unfinished. Taft was a man of character.

Then he lost the White House, and the incoming president (Woodrow Wilson) was the one who’d choose the next justice, so he waited. Since Wilson was from the other party, Taft waited some more. Wilson eventually did leave office, opening the door for Taft to potentially be appointed to his true love. At the very end of his life, Taft finally became Chief Justice. He loved being the Chief Justice so much he lost a ton of weight, got healthier, and lived his dream. 

Maybe you never dreamed of being a cross-cultural worker, but you went out of a beautiful sense of duty. Sometimes God saves your deferred dream for the next chapter.

5. Herbert Hoover: You recover what was lost

I’ll confess: as someone who loves history, I was embarrassed by my flat, two-dimensional picture of Hoover. I thought “Hooverville” and a rich guy who didn’t care about people. Guess what? Propaganda. After World War I he helped feed millions in Europe and was beloved for it. He wasn’t a bad president; the Great Depression hit near the start of his term, and one of FDR’s campaign people came up with that phrase that stuck like glue: “Hooverville.”

After he lost to Roosevelt, FDR sidelined him completely. And every election, FDR ran against Hoover as if he were still on the ballot, all the way into the 1940s. So, even though Hoover wasn’t running in the elections, it was as if he were. Years of banging on doors, trying to serve his country. Only after FDR died did Truman ask him to help with post-war relief, and Hoover got to serve again, becoming one of the first to model a life of public service after the presidency. He was instrumental in post-WWII Europe.

If you feel sidelined by things outside your control, pouring your gifts out like water on the ground, hold on. Recovery often takes time, but God is about redemption.

6. Jimmy Carter: You conceive a new role

Carter left the White House after a disappointing four years, and a lot of what he’d tried to do had gone down in flames. But here’s something I hadn’t realized: back then, there really wasn’t a “former president” role. We’re used to it now with Obama, Bush, and Biden, but people tended to die not long after leaving office. Carter was still young, with decades ahead of him. And he had bills to pay. He was one of the poorer presidents to leave office, not independently wealthy. (Sound familiar, CCWs?)

So, he decided he still had work to do in the world, and he made himself a job. You’ve probably heard of his work with Habitat for Humanity, building homes all over the world. He also involved himself in diplomacy, and because he did it unofficially, Carter sometimes went off script, maddening the current president. Carter had a strong moral compass. Some people may have thought, “What you’re doing isn’t a thing.” Carter just smiled and made it a thing, creating the role of “former president.” 

You can take what you were doing on the field and keep doing it in a new way, and you don’t have to wait for anyone to approve.

7. George W. Bush: You move on

Early in the chapter, there’s a line about how you can’t long for what you don’t have. Bush took that to heart. He was done with the presidency, and he closed the chapter. No diplomacy, no continuing the old role. (No shade to anyone who did!) He was still relatively young, and needed something to do, so he decided to pick up painting.

Can you imagine being the art teacher who gets that call? “Excuse me, the former president wants lessons?” But he was serious. He started out painting portraits of family members and has since done three shows related to his presidency. His first show was portraits of the diplomats who’d visited him when he was president. The second show, Portraits of Courage, featured ninety-eight veterans, his way of saying, “I sent you into hard places, and I want to honor you.” The third, Out of Many, One, was portraits of American immigrants. He doesn’t sell his art or offer it to fund raisers, and most of it is private. He just moved on to something completely different.

Moving on isn’t giving up. Whether you start a business, a nonprofit, or spend hours with your grandchildren, it’s an honorable, God-honoring option.

The Seven Paths to Purpose Post Field

1. You build something for future generations.
2. You have a surprise new focus.
3. You sometimes return to the field.
4. You get your deferred dream.
5. You recover what was lost.
6. You conceive a new role for similar passions.
7. You move on.

When I left the field, it felt like there was one path, and it was down. The rest of my life was going to stink. If I’d had this language back then, it would have made such a difference.

That’s what I love about these seven presidents. They didn’t all find purpose the same way; there are many paths, and they all lead to good places.

I’ll admit I’m a little bit of a Jefferson. I want to build something for future generations, and I know Bernie does too. We want to change the story, because the kingdom of God is always about regeneration, about carrying on the work God has begun in a lot of different ways.

If you’ve come off the field, which of these paths do you feel like you’re on, or have landed on? We’d love to hear.