Uncertain Terms

I’m a planner which means typically, I don’t deal very well with uncertainty. We found out six months ago that sometime in the next year Jonathan would be switching jobs, likely involving a relocation, and possibly a global one. We didn’t know where this move would be, but we knew we’d find out at the end of February/beginning of March. We figured that by the end of January, we’d at least have a pretty solid idea of where we’d be heading.At the end of January, we eagerly planned on a domestic move to Covington, LA.

But Covington slowly evolved into Thailand and I was excited in different ways. It’s always been my dream to live abroad, and Thailand was such an enchanting and exotic prospect that I couldn’t help but feel a thrill at the thought.
But then something came up. Something so wonderful, yet so improbable, that Jonathan and I dared not discuss it. But as it became an almost certain bet, we decided to let my parents in on the secret- we might be coming to join them in Nigeria. Now I’ve mentioned that my dad and husband work for the same company, in the same department. We always ruled Nigeria out as possibility due to this conflict of interest, but secretly I dreamed about living in the same city as my parents, especially since baby fever is running rampant in my household.

When rumors spread that there was no conflict of interest and Jonathan was asked if he’d be interested a position there, we foolishly let our guards down. We briefly discussed it before saying ‘heck yes’ and started preparing for the move. A few days later, it turned out that it was a conflict of interest for Jon to work in my dad’s department, and therefore Nigeria was not in the cards for us.

I was absolutely crushed at the news and was an emotional wreck for days. After much heartache and prayer, I realized Nigeria just wasn’t the place for us right now. I prayed for God’s peace in my heart, and he delivered. I told Jonathan that I didn’t want to discuss any more options- that I would rather him just tell me once the decision was made and I would get on board with wherever that might be. So that’s why, when he came to me last Thursday night with the option to go to Scotland, my heart rejoiced.

In case you didn’t know, I love Scotland more than any other place in the world. It is my happy place. It inspires me. It’s the setting of my daydreams. I tried to be cautious but Jonathan was assured that this was the real deal if we wanted to take the job (of course we wanted to take the job!).

We started making plans to ship the dogs, rent a house, and buy a Fiat hatch back. He was instructed to call Monday morning to set up a start date, yet when he did he realized it wasn't a done deal. It's still an option, but just one of many. So we're back at square one. Back at uncertainty. Back at praying for God’s peace and guidance.

Part of the relief I felt when I thought it was Scotland, was simply knowing where we were headed. Being able to start planning. Being able to move forward. The worst part about this experience has been feeling in limbo. We’re living in Houston with one foot out the door. We felt a natural tendency over the past few months to stop investing in friendships, church, our jobs. We’ve started pulling back and preparing to leave. We’ve been waiting for months and yet this final week has felt the most excruciating.

Each day brings new hints of where our lives might be headed, and then the next day everything changes. It’s exhausting and pointless to try to pin anything down. We’ll know soon enough.

More than anything, this situation is teaching me to trust God fully. When I heard the news about Aberdeen not working out, I teared up, but was nowhere near as devastated as I was when the Nigeria option was shut down. Almost instantly I felt God’s peace come into my heart and say ‘It’s okay. I have big plans for you’. My mantra lately has been ‘God has a plan. God has a plan. God has a plan.’ I repeat it over and over anytime I feel anxious about the coming months and it’s very effective (without the coma inducing side effects of Xanax).

And I know that God’s plan isn’t about what’s easiest and most comfortable for me, although it’s tempting to pray for that. I have to fight my heart when it wants to call out “Dear Jesus, please don’t send me to China. China really freaks me out. Please, could you just send me to Louisiana instead?”. Instead, I force myself to pray, “Dear Lord, please teach me to trust you. Please send us where we can best serve you. Please bring peace and comfort to my heart as you guide me towards your path for me.”

Changing how I pray has changed my entire world view. Once I snapped out of my selfish pouting and started trusting God with my life, it’s opened my eyes to what a self-absorbed brat I’ve been lately. My obsession with this uncertain, completely out of my control move has distracted me from focusing on my family which are frying way bigger fish right now.

Handing over my problems to God has allowed me to spend my energy praying for my grandmother who is having surgery to remove a tumor this weekend; for my sweet Dad who is having the worst month ever; for my fearless sister who just moved cross country with two small children for the second time in 6 months.

It’s like that saying: “if everyone put their problems into a pile, you’d ask for yours back”. I am so fortunate to have my problems. Like most things, it’s all a matter of perspective. I am small. My life is just one life. My problems are actually blessings. Thank you Lord, for this adventurous life. Please allow me to use it as a means to serve you. Amen.

In other, more light hearted news: We are on day 3 of our commitment to reduce our TV watching. It is amazing how much I can get done after work when I don’t plop down in front of the television right away. Last night we walked the dogs, cooked a new recipe for Greek Pastitsio Casserole (hint: use rotel for ‘diced’ tomatoes), and gave Samson a bath. (Samson's post-bath rawhide reward)
The mornings have been the hardest adjustment since I usually watch TV while I do the elliptical machine and watch Good Morning America while I get ready. As a substitute, I’ve been listening to podcast sermons from my church during exercise/getting ready time. This is doubly wonderful because we’ve been out of town so much lately that we’ve been missing a lot of Sundays. This gives me a way to catch up and start my day with a dose of Jesus, which is ultimately the point of this no TV thing in the first place.

It is still hard to break the habit and I caught my hand instinctively reaching for the remote this morning. Elipticalling without Downton Abbey was particularly difficult. It’s always hard to cultivate new habits, but hopefully by Easter I won’t be so dependent on TV.

Since we are still watching one show per night, I was able to keep up with the Top 24 on American Idol. I’m calling it right now that Philip Phillips is going to win the whole thing. He’s got the trifecta of talent needed to take the crown: Cute, White boy, with guitar. Or as the cool kids refer to it WBWG (Are you still a “cool kid” when you spend your free time on American Idol forums? If not, I’m screwed.).

The Bachelor or Fear Factor?

I’ve alluded to the fact that ‘The Bachelor’ is a favorite show in my household. This season’s bachelor, Ben F., is a swell guy and if I weren’t a married lady, I could see myself dating him. Lucky for him I am married and not a contestant, because I don’t think this show has ever seen the level of panic attack that I would have certainly had on a number of this season’s ‘dates’.

For instance, there is not enough Xanax in the world that would make me get within 5 feet of a helicopter much less climb to the top of the Bay Bridge or free fall into an underwater cave. This week’s episode was the worst so far, requiring some poor girl to jump from a helicopter into Belize’s blue hole and then three girls on a group date to swim with sharks. They already got stuck with a group date and now you want them to swim with sharks? Over my dead body.

During Linzi’s romantic terrifying helicopter/Blue hole date, I started laughing hysterically. Jonathan shot me a quizzical look and I explained that I was just imagining Ben’s reaction to my reaction were he to ask me to jump out of a helicopter. Into 500 feet of ocean. With sharks. My reaction would have been ‘heck no’. End of story.

For instance, I wonder what Ben/ABC would do if a girl displayed my reaction when snorkeling recently in Hawaii. Would Ben have exhibited Jonathan’s patience while watching me stand on the edge of the catamaran for 30 minutes trying to muster the courage to jump in? What about when I finally did jump in, only to immediately start hyperventilating, sobbing, and puking to the point that I had to be tranquilized with my mom’s secret Xanax stash? And that was because I saw a fish about the size of my fist, which apparently is the whole point of snorkeling. Who knew there were fish down there? Terrifying. (Me, tranquiled after snorkeling. Thanks for the Xanax mom. Oh and also, thanks for taking this embarrassing photo.)
Maybe I’ve never really been in love, but there is no one who could make me feel compelled to do someone of these Bachelor stunts. I would simply refuse. I can just imagine it: “Laine, on today’s date we are going to hang-glide into an active volcano”. Not for a million roses, buddy, especially not for a relationship with a shelf life of 6 months max.

I’m starting to wonder if ABC makes these girls sign a contract agreeing to participate in these activities. I just want to know when ‘The Bachelor’ turned into ‘Fear Factor’. Gee, you know what would be a really romantic date? Why don’t we churn the water with some bloody fish and then have you and your romantic love interest jump into shark infested waters…on your second date. And would it really be a deal breaker if a girl flat out refused? ‘Why is so important to you that I swim with sharks? Is shark-swimming a trait that you’re looking for in a wife? And if so, I’m sorry but I don’t see this working out very well.’
Let me tell you, I married quite the adventurous man, and yes, sometimes it is frustrating to a scuba diver that his wife has a phobia of water; or to a black diamond skier that his wife won’t leave the bunny slopes. But being as though we don’t live on a ski lift or at a dive shop, these things aren’t part of our daily lives and therefore don’t really affect our marriage. Jonathan doesn’t share my affinity for European history or televised dog shows, but I’m still glad I married the guy.

I shouldn’t get so worked up about it. It’s just a reality TV show that feeds on drama. If these guys and gals could form a decent connection over endless breadsticks at Olive Garden, they wouldn’t be on the show in the first place. Maybe they need death defying stunts to forge a bond. Me and my man, we bond plenty just by watching ‘the Bachelor’.

Welcome to my dark side. Ranting starts now.

If all is well that ends well, does that mean that all that ends badly, is bad? Exhibit A: LOST.

For 6 years, I invested myself emotionally into the TV series LOST. I enjoyed the symbolic references, the in depth character development and the intricate plot lines. There was such a build up for the finale of LOST. Jonathan and I treated it like it was a holiday. A few months ahead of time we rewatched seasons 1-5. For the finale we bought our favorite snacks, bought a nice bottle of wine (aka more than $8) and watched with anticipation, waiting for all of the mysteries of LOST to finally be explained. While Jonathan was satisfied with the lackluster touchy feely ending, I was infuriated. I steamed over it for weeks, identifying greatly with this video .

There were just too many unanswered questions. It seemed the writers dragged the series out, backed themselves into a corner and then ignored 90% of the questions they posed. They developed everything so well and then they (in my eyes) ruined it by rushing the ending. Afterward, they defended their disregard for the disregarded storylines, explaining that they wanted the audience to create their own answers. You know what I call that? LAZY. Cowardly. Maybe even a little bit unethical. Now I could reveal my mega-nerdness by writing 20 blog posts on the subject, but the point of this blog post is possibly even more distressing. Exhibit B: The Hunger Games. Oh, my sweet and perfect Hunger Games, what did your author do to you? When I read book one of the trilogy, I couldn’t wait to read books 2 (Catching Fire) and 3 (Mockingjay). However, with an extreme amount of self-discipline, I waited to indulge myself in the final 2 books during my trip to Hawaii. (Reading a great novel by the pool with a perfect view of Molokai was truly a life affirming experience. You should try it sometime.) Catching Fire (Book 2) was a great book. Not quite as tailored and poised as the first, but still among one of my favorite books of all time. Mockingjay, the final book, almost made it there. Almost. If it just weren’t for the last chapter.

After all the effort Suzanne Collins went through to weave a perfect story and create authentic, vulnerable characters, the end just felt rushed in comparison. In a trilogy that seemed so effortlessly written, I couldn't help but feel like the ending was forced. I wondered to myself if Collins had the pressure of a deadline causing the abrupt and unsatisfying conclusion to the Katniss Everdeen story. Maybe she just got sick of it. Maybe she just got lazy.

But I just have to imagine, that with as attached as I felt to her characters, she must have been that much more involved. I won’t spoil it for you, and it definitely was not as infuriating as the ending of LOST, but the ending feels simply incomplete. She could have made an entire book out of the last chapter of Mockingjay, and maybe she plans to. I just can’t imagine that she would just “give up” at the conclusion of the series.

And if that weren’t bad enough, examine Exhibit C : The LSU tiger football season. After what was being hailed as the best SEC season of all time, the undefeated Tigers failed to perform at the National Championship game vs Alabama, a team they had already defeated in the regular season. And LSU didn’t just get beat; they were humiliated.

The Tiger offense only got past midfield once during the entire game. I’m used to rooting for the team that does the humiliating, not the other way around. It was humbling to say the least.

Sorry to be such a bummer today.

Maybe it’s like Ben F.’ The Bachelor’ said to Ashley Hebert when she rejected his proposal “Good things don’t end unless they end badly”.

Maybe so, Ben F., maybe so.