When You're at an Impasse in a Decision

We're stuck, my man and I.

At an impasse, and we circle to it again and again these last four days. At the coffee-shop over my dark French roast, in the car on our way home from an errand, and whispered in the dark at night before bed.

We have a decision to make that will affect not only the next two weeks, but probably the next few months as well. We hesitate because we are on opposite sides of the issue and can't find a middle ground. He is wise and logical, and I'm looking at this in a more emotive light, I know, and yet the stakes feel high. 

So we dance and parry, and gently ask questions. Probing quietly, we listen for the person's heart behind their choice, and seek to see their side.

This is a newer skill for us, I admit. Much more prone to fall into passionate "discussions," we are striving to do this better. Tools straight from the premarital counseling material that we teach to newly-engaged couples are, nonetheless, still hard to implement some days. It's hard not getting your way sometimes.

Three things have helped us in past decision-making dilemmas:

1.) Listen to the why behind their decision. Listen without interrupting and with openness.
2.) Speak calmly, respectfully, and kindly when it's your turn. Assertively share your thoughts.
3.) Remind yourself that their heart is good, and that their motives are usually for your benefit.

But today? It's still hard. My poor man and I long to say yes to the other person, long to thrill each other with a yes, but can't quite release what worries us from the other position. So we hug, and pray, and hope that time helps.

What helps you those days? What system of decision-making do you and your loved ones employ?

Photo credit. 
 

...That is the Question...

Japanese-synthesized music lilts in the background, and I munch almonds beside a cup of reheated coffee. My tousle-headed preschooler is in bed, and the older kids help at our church’s summer Vacation Bible School program. 

Last night panic gripped my chest. I had been researching part time jobs and considering one especially. This one would require an intensive full-time training period, lasting over six months. My motivation was the resulting flexible part-time schedule with numerous days home with my family, but the process to get there suddenly seemed daunting. 

The excitement had dissipated and apprehension constricted my chest. Could we do this? Was it wise for our family? Would the end justify the crazy period to get there? 

Later that night, I lay entwined in my husband’s arms on the couch. He talked, his mouth against the back of my head. He wasn’t sure what to think either, but he murmured calm into my mind. We hugged in silence.

I ran the idea and its pros and cons past some friends over a night of games and fresh Vietnamese spring rolls. Late at night, fingers twisting the frayed couch threads, I whispered the idea over the phone to my sister, and she practiced newly-acquired counseling techniques with me, asking questions and waiting. 

Today, sunshine and a cool sixty-four degree breeze buffeted me gently as I walked the neighborhood circle, greeting neighbors, and guiding my three year old on his blue bicycle. Training wheels scratched the road on alternate sides, and he drove in mild diagonal lines across the street. I weaved with him, gently nudging the wheel towards safety and watching for oncoming traffic. His red duct-taped helmet hung low over his eyes, and he squinted into the setting sun. I knew the path, and he was happy to simply bike beside me.  

Boxes line the hallways and stack high in our garage now. Our eleven month process to sell our home, find a new one, and prepare to move is almost over. In seven days we close on our new home and drive away from this current one. We’ve seen our God’s extravagant hand so clearly through this, and it speaks calm to my mind now. 

My almonds are gone, the coffee cools, and the music plays on. Thank you, Abba. I’m happy to simply bike beside you too. You weave beside me, nudging me into safety and you know the path we’re on. 

Linking with Ann, Michelle, Shanda, and Emily.