Ok…deep breath…sweaty palms….here we go. The decision has been made… our answer is: YES.

Yes to moving our family to Mexico and living there long term. I do. We do. We will! Oh. my. goodness.

A few people have expressed surprise when we have shared the news locally, particularly as our exploratory trip (as summed up in the previous blog post ‘Global Gathering and the Big Question’) was wonderful but contained something of a reality check and didn’t immediately compel us to sign our lives away. So let me explain.

Matt and I had two weeks apart immediately after our Mexico reconnaissance while he jetted off to further foreign climes on a work trip, and I spent the time trying to pray and listen but often simply fretting about our response to the ‘yes or no’ question, trying to work out the right answer by turning it over endlessly in my mind (not a very successful strategy!). COULD this be the right thing still, even looking a bit different to what we first imagined, or had we misread the signs thus far and got it all wrong? What about all the challenges, like the prospect of homeschooling (aaarrggh!), not actually knowing what our role/work would be, and what about the need to be entirely self-funding? What about living in the ever-encroaching shadow of serious tourism? Are we really ready to kiss our homeland goodbye along with all the attendant taken-for-granted benefits like free health care, a free quality education, free clean drinking water flowing freely from every tap? Perhaps another offer, a wild card option was going to spring up out of nowhere at the last minute and change everything, eliminating all doubt?

It’s a familiar feeling, the fretting. In the gap between Matt asking me to marry him the first time (and me declining – see first blog post ‘The proposal approaches’ for the full story!) and his second proposal, I prayed/fretted a lot in this same rather churned up way. Please lead me, please guide me. Is this right? Show me, God please!

I never did get a clear ‘Yes’ from above. I certainly didn’t get a ‘No’ and I felt God gave me some encouraging messages about his care for me and my future life, plus things were pretty well lined up already – I loved Matt and he loved me. My trusted friends and family generally approved of us as a couple and thought we would be a good match. I saw nothing that suggested I shouldn’t marry him. I can see now that the ‘yes’ was already pretty obvious, but in the absence of an additional heavenly affirmation that day, I spelt it out to God: ‘If you don’t say no VERY LOUDLY in the next 20 minutes, I am going to go and tell Matt he can ask me again to marry him’. Silence. So I did.

I took a risk. I wasn’t certain, but I had enough reasons to say yes and I had run out of convincing reasons to say no, other than nervousness at what might not work out. It felt incredibly dangerous, but I did it.

And the risk paid off. Our marriage gets better every day, constantly being chipped, honed, improved. It’s not perfect, and all relationships bring challenges, but none of my major worries or fears when I got engaged ever came to pass – and I had an A4 sheet full! For that big decision and plenty of others since, doubt, uncertainty and risk seem to be part of the package. We are rarely certain beyond doubt that all will be well, but making sure we ask, listen and then do what seems best at the time seems to be plenty good enough for God, and he makes things work out. Maybe that’s faith.

When Matt got back from his work trip mid January 2019 and we prayed together for guidance and confirmation, we couldn’t escape the feeling that the Almighty was just sitting back and waiting, smiling slightly, for the penny to drop. Ohhh…yes. He HAD given us a long series of guidance and confirmation reminders over the past few years, some of it out of the blue when we weren’t even asking. We came to the conclusion swiftly that we weren’t going to find out anything new at this stage that would eliminate all uncertainty or danger, that was impossible. It isn’t all tied up. But we know enough. It’s time to stop asking and start doing. It’s time to take the risk.

So being just sure enough, we have said yes to Mexico. We have been in touch with Paul and Elaine in Puerto Morelos, and told family and local friends what we’ve decided. Matt has handed in his notice at work to finish at the end of 2019. We said yes. It’s happening.

How does it feel? The immediate sense was a little like jumping off a cliff. Arrrrrrgggghhhh! What am I doiiiiiinnnnggg??! Putting an end date on security and safety, rushing headlong towards a void where at present there is no identified work to do, no income, and no home, taking our innocent very British routine-loving children and exposing them to a life of strange unknowns with no safety nets…will we all be smashed to pieces in a cloud of dust at the bottom of the ravine?

And then I remembered in March 2018 Matt and I went to a church conference and the speaker pulled us out of the crowd and spoke to us what he felt God was saying: ‘I see you standing on the edge of a cliff’ he said, ‘and God says “Jump!”…and when you do, trust that the hang glider wings will carry you, and you will soar.’ No guarantees, but a good enough reason to trust. Breathe, keep breathing. Hold on tight. And trust.

I’m happy to say, that stomach-lurching moment of panic has passed and made way for the adrenaline kick of the soar. The fear sneaks back into the odd moment when a new realisation dawns, but generally, despite being fully aware of the challenges to come plus all the things we don’t even know about yet, I feel peace. I feel excited. I feel sad too, because now I definitely know I eventually have to leave my wonderful friends and family – and the local friends who ARE family – and not share everyday life with them any more, and that will be very sad, and very different. It is such a mixed feeling when people express sadness at the news that we’re leaving. On one hand, we’re pleased – what a privilege that people like us enough to feel they will miss us. But there is also a strange sense of grief (guilt?) that we are causing sorrow to other people by our choices, and then our own sadness too as we face the facts each time we share the news – that we will soon enough have to say goodbye to these ones too.

We told the kids. ‘We have some exciting news’ we began. Their ears pricked up. I’m sure at least one of them was thinking it involved sweets.

‘We have decided that our family is going to move to Mexico! We’re saying yes!’ The response was immediate; an extended horrified ‘Nooo!’

One burst into tears and ran away. One folded arms and scowled in furious defiance: ‘I’m not going! I don’t want to go!’ and after refusing to be talked down, went upstairs and lay under his bed kicking it with a resonant thud, and wouldn’t come out, not even to see his favourite friend in the world who arrived for lunch soon after with his family.

Our smallest child showed no interest at all, and we thought the whole thing had gone over his head until the next day when he was in a trolley in the supermarket being generally noisy, and I realised he was singing: ‘Meeeexxxxicoooo! Going to Meeeexxxiccccooo!’. He sounded happy enough. One out of three isn’t bad?!

So begins the process of adjusting to the idea. ‘If we move to Mexico…’ we begin as we have for some months now, and correct ourselves – ‘No, WHEN we move to Mexico…’

I have occasional glimmers of realisation. I look at my two year old, our only Scot born and bred thus far and realise he’s going to grow up international. Culturally Mexico and possibly the US will overshadow the British in him. Hopefully he’ll become bi-lingual. The course of his life, his opportunities, prospects and – most crucially (!) – his ACCENT will be entirely different to what they would be if we stayed here. A different path.

As with marriage, there are some very big adjustments ahead. Major change. But I’m ready for it.

It must be love.