The period wherein you are engaged to another person is truly a blessing. If it weren’t for the past few months where both Abbie and I were allowed and encouraged to change, where our lives were given the opportunity to gradually mold into something that would fit together seamlessly somewhat come marriage, I don’t know what we’d do–or at the very least what I would do.
I’m not a person that has ever responded well to a lot of change at once. It’s strange given that I don’t love for things to stay exactly the same for too terribly long, but at multiple points in my life, when things have begun to shift suddenly from the familiar to something else, I’ve found myself anxious, uncomfortable, and uneasy at the prospect of moving forward. Semesters during college I would begin by not sleeping. I’d pass up opportunities just because they were new. I’ve always been bad at just hunkering down and stepping ahead for fear it would change what I know.
But our engagement has been good for me. Not just in regards to how it has prepared me for my and Abbie’s marriage, but for how it has readied my mindset and outlook toward who I am to be. A couple of weeks ago I wrote about quitting my job with no indication for what, because quitting that job, regardless of the why, was a huge step forward, in and of itself. It was the job I’d been working for over two years. It was the job I worked through my and Abbie’s relationship, and most of the things currently present in my life–friendships, job prospects, interests, etc.–were grown and cultivated while there. But a week out from being done with that job, I’m preparing for what I’ll be doing next, that being:
If that seems sort of out of left field, it’s because it probably is. I graduated with a degree in English, I play music, I draw things, and my only adult experience that I can proudly attest to is my ability to make coffee. But I’ve gotten to know myself over the past couple of years, and the jobs that I’m suited to work, the ones that play best to my talents, my ideas, my thought processes, aren’t always the typical–and real estate isn’t exactly typical. What it is, for me anyway, is a change. It’s something new. It’s something that when I’m newly married, when I’m paying bills, and doing other adult things, I’ll be able to cite as a marked step forward toward something better, something grander, something that will set me up later to better do the things that I really want to do, like being an artist, being a writer, and even more so, being a good husband and a good father.
It takes steps to make those changes: the uncomfortable, the unknown, the toward the dark corner and into the abyss type of steps, but steps all the same–and what I’ve come to learn over the past couple of years, and even more so over the past couple of months, is that those steps are often both necessary and worth it, because the greatest things require faith in us, and a stretching of our faith to believe. We aren’t the types to stay comfortable, we aren’t the ones to remain idle. As humans, we have a need for something greater, and as twenty-somethings, that’s just even truer. Just because we aren’t qualified, just because we aren’t ready, just because the new is scary and uncharted, it doesn’t mean it isn’t better–it just means that we haven’t seen quite how great it can be, and if we stay where we are, whether that be relationally or career wise, we’ll never know–I’ll never know, which is why I am excited for what’s next.
Next is new and new is always better…right? Yeah. Someone said that once anyway.