The same weekend that Love At The Speed Of Email launched, way back in June last year, Mike and I learned that we’d be leaving Luang Prabang in April 2013.
Mike’s position is being handed over to a Lao national staff member, which is good. Working yourself out of a job is exactly what you want to do in international development work, and Mike’s great at that sort of capacity building.
So this is a good thing, and we always knew we wouldn’t be here long term.
And, yet.
There’s a difference between knowing you won’t be somewhere long term – that you might be moving in “oh, a year, maybe two” – and suddenly knowing that the clock is ticking.
When we first received the news we had ten months. Now we have less than three.
We’ve spent that seven months alternately thrashing out possible next steps and avoiding discussing the topic because it had gotten all too exhausting. We’ve tried on one possible future after another – holding them up to us mentally and looking them up and down to see how they fit.
Australia? The US? Stay in Laos? Move somewhere in Africa? East Timor? Indonesia? How important is it to have access to decent medical care during this season? How much permanent damage am I risking by continuing to live in the tropics with a health condition that’s aggravated by heat? How important is it to my sanity to be able to keep doing some work myself while also being Dominic’s primary caregiver? Where am I going to have this new baby? How important is it to Mike’s well-being and the health of the whole family system for him to be doing work he enjoys and believes makes a difference? Does that work have to be in the humanitarian sector? If not, what else is out there? Where do we start looking? Do we want to put down some roots – we who don’t even own a car at the moment, much less a house? Where?
And so it goes.
Mike and I have been forced to acknowledge that as well matched as we are, we are still different people, who want some different things in and from life. We’ve come to realize that some of what first drew us together five years ago has shifted and changed. We’ve had to confront, again, some of the constraints that my lymphedema and Dominic’s very existence place upon us. We’ve repeatedly collided with the myth – the hope – that there is an option out there that will be a perfect fit for everyone. That neither of us will really have to forgo some things that we really want.
Ironically, during the six months when people all around the world have been reading the fairytale of our early romance, we’ve been getting dirty in the trenches of our marriage. Battling depression, injuries, and some growing and unacknowledged resentments. Failing to communicate well. Trying to come to grips, still, with the earthquake that parenthood has been in our lives. Getting up in the middle of the night again and again and again. Replaying conversations about the future that we’ve already had dozens of times – an exhausting, maddening, spiral of thoughtful decision-making.
Struggling to figure out how to love each other well when it doesn’t come nearly as easily.
We have fewer than 100 days left in this little town we’ve grown to love, and then we’ll be leaving on a jet plane. It’s just, we still don’t know where that plane will be going.
We’ll keep you posted. 
In the meantime, what’s a tough decision you’ve had to make in your own relationship – one where all the pieces didn’t seem to fit neatly?
What did you decide to do, and how did you get to that point?
27 comments
I hear you Lisa! I have been through those decisions so many times both solo (in some ways harder because you don’t have a sounding board or devils advocate to help decifer what you want and don’t want) and with a long term partner. Never had kids or medical issues in the mix though so I am sending the 4 of you the wisdom, courage, patience and compromise that you’ll all need. Love to you.
Thanks Sam. See you back here in just a couple of weeks.
As a single, childless woman, I’m in a far different position than you are. But I know the excitement/terror of quitting my job, selling my house, and moving 3,000 miles away, to be homeless and jobless, but to start a new life from scratch. So much potential! But so much stress! Just know that you’re not alone on this journey, and that there are many people rooting for you. And on my own part, praying for you.
Thanks Sarah. Yeah, the potential/stress roller coaster. I used to believe I loved change more than I actually DO. Or, perhaps, I used to love change more than I love it now :).
I keep saying I hate change… And I really do… So, dangit, why do I keep doing it?! Oh, yeah… Because it’s LIFE. 🙂
That is a true truth!
Lisa, your amazing, refreshing, perceptive honesty is why I will never stop reading this blog. It’s so rare to read something so public and yet so heartfelt – thank you a million times over for verbalising what so many feel yet cannot put into (eloquent) words.
Future-wise, we’re in exactly the same boat. Each imagined option is a significant compromise for us both – how to balance & manage that known, inevitable compromise and some of the concomitant resentments is, as you’ve noted, challenging & exhausting.
If you do move however, can I put two hands up for Mwanza? I can highly recommend the fabulous expats that live there.
Hey Katie. Yeah. I got the sense you were mulling over some interesting issues from your posts about visas. I wish we could sit and talk about it over a glass of wine or dinner or whatever. I would love to hear more of your guys story. And we’ll keep Mwanza in mind. I liked what I saw of Tanzania :).
Lisa, thanks for sharing this. Marriage is a hard fought battle especially with health conditions and kids thrown in (I know this well…). I pray now that you will continue to love each other self sacrificially and God gives you wisdom to know where is best for your family. X
Thanks Alana. Hope your own health is holding up well these days and your lovely little clan are well!
Lisa, this post touched me deeply. I identify particularly with the inner fight to do work that has nothing to do with your identity as a mother. I’m coming out of the baby season you are smack dab in the middle of, and it’s bittersweet. For me (not offering these as should-dos, just as my own experience), during that season, my biggest goals were to remember that my marriage was a higher priority than my children (tough to do), and to attentively mother my kiddos (also tough for an introvert to consistently do well). For me, it took awhile to accept that the nature of my calling had radically shifted. Tough, tough process. Your process will not look like mine, but I offer it to encourage you that in the midst of baby years & major career decisions, you & Mike can (and I believe will) find a new place & a new rhythm that works for everyone. Probably some facet of the newness will require major compromise from each of you, but it can still be workable and enjoyable. Blessings to you all!
Thanks Jenn, for sharing your own experiences. Yes, man, attentively and actively mothering is so exhausting when you’re an introvert! Or, really, I suspect, if you’re an extrovert too. But it’s a particular type of “seriously, do I have to say dog for the 5500th time today?” exhaustion that eats up all your words. And I hope you’re right about finding new rhythms that work for everyone. I just feel as if we’ve been in flux now for more than two years – every time we start to find a rhythm we’re knocked out of beat again, and I don’t see that changing in the foreseeable future. Like … for the rest of the year. Sigh.
I admire that you can write about the “dirty trenches” of marriage and the earthquake that is parenthood with honesty and such amazing love. I have a feeling this is a post I’ll keep coming back to for inspiration and courage.
xo
Thanks Jos. How is that conclusion coming along???? Sending a big hug and some virtual chocolate (actually, scratch the virtual chocolate. That’s worse than not sending chocolate at all).
Lisa, what an honest, raw, beautiful post… What is interesting to me about international lives and careers is how they force you into those dirty trenches much more than a ‘sedentary’ lifestyle. They make you ask “where do we want to be living? what do we want to be doing? who gets to choose? how do we reconcile our choices?” a lot more than any individual, or any couple, asks if they have chosen to live somewhere for a decade. I would like to think that the questions are for the better, and that we will all come out of them having grown a little, and having learned how to love a little more and a little differently. But that’s me: always an optimist. Sending some of that optimism your way, and looking forward to seeing where your life adventure goes next.
I think you’re right – they force you to ask those questions again and again and again. MUCH more than if you were more settled somewhere, more settled INTO something. I, too, would like to think that ultimately all this soul searching and gazing into mirrors and at each other will ultimately benefit us … but the other little being who lives right alongside my optimistic self and who shall remain nameless, sometimes asks me where the inflection point is on this process curve and when enough is enough. We’ll keep you posted on next steps. And as for you, keep dancing 🙂
Lisa, Eric and I have been going through the same cycle you and Mike are going through. What will be meaningful for him AND for me, while raising little ones we adore, wanting to be part of something bigger and outside of ourselves? ’tis tough…but, I do hope that one day, we’ll find the answers. meanwhile, we keep the conversation going. Keep dancing!
Hope your conversations are going well and you’re not in that “grrr, totally don’t want to think about stuff like this … ever again” stage. All the best with your own spinning around these questions! And with the quest for dancing.
hello, new reader to your blog. I think all big decisions are hard..especially when its one you don’t want to make. Hope you can arrive at the right decision soon
Welcome. Thanks for visiting, and for the good wishes.
I have nothing in my experience that comes even close to what you’re currently trying to figure out, so I’ll tell you about one of our ‘big’ decisions. 🙂
My (then) almost-fiancee bought a small lifestyle block about an hour away from where we were both currently living. He worked on it on weekends, but without any plan to move onto it. In the meantime, we’d gotten married and started our family, and now had to seriously decide whether we were going to move away from what little extended family we both had, the support system I had (as a new mum) and the church we had both attended for 10yrs. We tried everything to come to a decision. We asked God to give us a word, we asked our family what they thought, we asked our pastor what he thought, and we talked and talked and talked to each other. At no point did we ever both want to move to our lifestyle block, and in the 2 years (!!!!!!) it took us to come to our decision we changed sides over and over again. At all times one of us wanted to stay where we were, and one of us wanted to move. The frustrating thing was that just as the ‘staying’ one would warm up to the idea of moving, the ‘going’ one would cool down. And round and round we went again!
The end result of all that agonising is that I’m looking out my window at sheep wandering past, trying to find a green blade of grass to eat on our almost-drought stricken 5 acre lifestyle block. I love it here, the kids love it and my husband loves it… although he doesn’t love the 2hr round-trip commute he does every day to work, but that’s another story.
What helped – talking, all that talking, and being honest about what we really thought and wanted. Being honest about our own needs, while still trying to be kind, respectful and loving to the other. It’s a hard balance to find… all the best as you figure out your own decisions 🙂
Ugh, that sounds exhausting!! Thanks for sharing though, and really great to know you all love where you (finally) landed!! Hope the drought breaks soon!!
Hi Lisa, I’m praying for you in this tough decision. Dave and I faced a tough choice when we both gave up our jobs to move and look after his disabled mother. Bringing up an autistic child in an area we don’t know without an income is a challenge for someone who was, like you, an internationally known speaker. But downsizing and focusing on family has brought some good things with it. Life is short, and this is just a season. Keep hold of what matters.
Thanks Debbie. Yeah, that’s a big reroute. But I think you’re very wise to remind us (both) that this is just a season. Sending a hug, and all good wishes to everyone in your small clan.
Oh dear, mz heart goes out to you.
We went through a phase of failed communication in our marriage, and it was bad enough without having to make major decision. I pray for wisdom, mercy and opportunities for you.
Sorry for the typos.
Thanks Corrie!
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