Life In the Margins
I married a “what if?” man. That means that with each decision we make, or think about, Michael attaches a plethora of “what if” questions. He likes to lay out all the options, and then verbally process through each one. I do not. I’m more of an internal processer and I don’t like to get stuck in scenarios.
On our walk this morning Michael gave me a scenario and asked me, what would you do? My answer: “I don’t feel like wasting my mental bandwidth to seriously consider what decision I would make IF something would happen two years from now.” Fair. He said, and we carried the conversation on.
There are days I entertain the “what ifs” and there are days I don’t. I do think that scenarios can be healthy and fun to consider. And yet, it can be tiring and unsettling to dive deeper into the many ways life could go.
Since saying “I do” with Michael in 2017, life hasn’t really gone the way we thought it would.
Never would I ever have thought we’d live in Costa Rica. Never did I think I’d be having four girls. Never did I think I’d live in rental homes and buy random furniture off facebook or friends who are moving. I never thought I’d have a blog and seriously pursue a writing career while in the middle of this wonderful mess of motherhood.
Looking back at the course of life over the last 15 years, I can see that God was stretching my muscles of possibility. He was building adaptability and a keen awareness of the fragility of seasons while teaching me that joy can accompany decisions without clarity. Peace doesn’t mean knowing everything. Rather it is knowing that God has everything under control, regardless of how much I agonize over the process of making a decision.
For the first few years of our marriage, Michael’s love for scenarios was unsettling because I understood them as true possibilities that threatened to shake up whatever semblance of grounding I’d manage to gain. We were living on three-month contracts and moved twelve times within the first year. It was exhausting.
Overtime I learned that there is a time to entertain the many “what ifs” and there is a time to just let it be. To take things as they are and not ponder what may come. Mathew 6:34 famously says, “Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow ill worry about itself.”
My answer to Michael this morning is an indication that I’m content to settle into our recent rhythms of change. After a season of uncertainty with Michael’s job loss and the news of a new baby, our decision to stay in Costa Rica is one that brings great joy and comfort. We are fully aware that this is a season of living in the margins: of what has been and what will be. Which is exactly why the “what if” questions began stirring in Michael’s mind this morning. He is greatly gifted with an ability to hold the tension of uncertainty. And yet, I’ll avoid those “what ifs” for a little while longer so that my feet can dig deeper into the Costa Rican soil. There will be a time for more pondering. I’m sure it will be sooner than I imagine as always happens. So instead, here I am, focusing on the present.
This month we hope to purchase a seven-seater car, Michael will travel to Honduras for a consultancy, and we are welcoming friends to visit. The girls start school next week and I’ve just started swimming again since running has become too difficult in the third trimester. Today, I’ll choose to let tomorrow worry about itself.