The Game-Designer's Wife

Thus far, I've been rather cryptic in my writings about my and my husband's current situation. This I have mostly been able to chalk up to a desire for anonymity, the Internet is a big place, no specifics, blah blah blah blahdy blah, but I am coming clean with the real reason tonight. I've been embarrassed. Of what? I guess it's one thing to say, "Our situation is strange and unique," and another to say, "God called my husband and I to live with his parents for two years so he can make board games." 

If you're like 90% of the people we know, you will look at us and our two little boys living in the spare rooms of my in-laws' place and think, "Are you sure about that? Because that seems a little...wrong." And you would be right, it does seem a little wrong. So much so, that I spent the first year of this process convinced it had to be wrong, that this couldn't be the real plan, that it must get normal at some point. Well, I'm tired of being ashamed of something I have no reason to hide. I'm tired of defending myself, my husband, and God. I am so freaking proud of my husband and, honestly, of myself, for getting where we are. So why the fear? Why the shame? Because of how it looks? That’s just plain stupid. And so, just to eliminate the temptation of waiting for clear unmistakable evidence that we were right all along, I'm going to tell our little tale before the story is over. Honestly, I don't know how this will end, but I know how far my family has come and the amazing things God has done with us and through us in the last two years and, no matter what the outcome, that’s something to be proud of and something to be shared.

Brian and I met in our final year of high school. He had it on his mind to be an engineer and, when we went to college that fall, he majored in physics while I signed up for English with an emphasis in writing. I found his chosen occupation to be a very attractive quality, having spent my life watching my own parents struggle through creating and maintaining their business endeavors and moving on when one thing didn’t work out. Brian would have a desk job and a briefcase while I sat at home clicking away on my typewriters and watching the children, an idyllic fairy tale ending to our high-school-sweethearthood.

It didn’t take long for Brian to realize that he hated physics and also was not doing so well. The things he enjoyed, story-telling, being creative, and hanging out at our school’s War-gaming club, didn't lend themselves to a "normal" career that would support a family, so he signed up for journalism. The problem was, he didn't like journalism any more than physics and he no longer had time to try another major. So, four and a half years later, we were married and he graduated with a degree in Visual Journalism. And, as was proper for any young married man, Brian was looking for a job. Any job. There was nothing. We thought when he had a degree things would change. They didn't. Our apartment had been paid for through the end of the school year by his parents, with the understanding that we would pay them back when he got a job. He didn't. When our lease was up that summer, we moved in with my in-laws. I was two months pregnant, and perfectly and sublimely miserable.

What was not on my mind was that I may need to be in that situation for a reason. I was convinced I was being punished for Brian not knowing what he was doing in college, for getting married too soon, for getting pregnant too quickly. Basically. I spent four months wading through severe cases of all-day-morning-sickness and self-pity.

Brian got a job that October as a photographer and social media manager for a vacation rental company up in the mountains. Secluded, cold, and far away. Just what I had always dreamed of! But not Brian. He didn't like his dull and frustrating job. He didn't like that our friends and family weren't around. He missed having things to do and places to go other than K Mart. He spent his free time working on developing characters for the games we played in college and even started making up some rules of his own. He had a few good ideas, but this hobby of his wasn’t real life. I tried to have enthusiasm enough for both of us. I tried to get him excited about the fact that we were finally doing what we were "supposed" to do, supporting ourselves, starting a family, being adults. I tried to tune out his discontentment because I was finally happy.

That changed, however, when our son was born.

It seemed to happen all at once that I didn't want to be trapped up on a freaking mountain all alone while Brian worked at a job at which he had no enjoyment at all. I wanted my son to grow up surrounded by all the people who loved him, not just hear about them and see them on holidays. I mentioned to Brian that I would like to move back home when we could. The next day, he was laid off. I took it as God leading us to the next location where we would do the same things we had been doing before, just in a better place.

The next time we moved in with the in-laws, I was excited. Brian had a little job experience so getting work again wouldn't be nearly as difficult and, in the meantime, I would have ample support with my amazingly adorable, though sleepless, baby boy.

One month turned into four. No job. My sister-in-law got married, and so moved out. I still lived there. Our little boy was still quite sleepless. Brian was spending his time going between looking for work and working on "projects", mostly games.

I began to hate games.

But why? Messing with “mechanics” and “balancing playstyle” made my weird husband so happy. He had some pretty good ideas, but then, no, people don’t design board games for a living. People, responsible normal people, work in offices and bring home money. The last thing that was going to happen would be creating a game company from my mother-in-law’s dining room table. Right? Well, while he worked on his games and even launched a Kickstarter campaign for an early version of “Winds of Fortune”, I spent my time spiraling into a chasm of doubts, depression, and contempt for myself, for our circumstances, and mostly, for God. I stopped praying. I stopped blogging. I lost the one thing on which I had based every aspect of my life, my faith. 

The first Kickstarter campaign for “Winds of Fortune” started in November. Probably because he knew I wanted it over as soon as possible. Was it finished? Not quite. Was it perfect? Certainly not. Half way through, we had only made a small dent in our $35,000 goal.

Brain took the website down and went back to filling out job applications. It looked like the phase was over and we were back to real life. That’s when I found out we were going to have another baby. Brian got another job. Things were looking up. Until three weeks later, when he got laid off yet again.

My pregnancy and that job loss were responsible for two things: helping me hit rock bottom when my all-day-morning-sickness had me completely physically debilitated and when all hope of moving out before baby #2 came along was gone, and they gave me the motivation I needed to revisit my dialogue with God.

I started asking the big questions and not accepting small answers. I started looking outside of what I wanted to find what God may have been wanting for me. I picked out certain bits of blog posts I had written while trying to cope with all of this, and, daily, I practiced believing them. It was a slow process that happened by increments that I still can’t trace or explain, but, somehow, I started appreciating my life. I started to trust God again.

I realized that I wouldn’t have gotten through two very difficult pregnancies had we not lived with my in-laws and if Brian had been working. I realized I had gained a crucial understanding of family and community that never would have made sense to me otherwise. I started to see that, while Brian had missed out on learning useful career skills at school, he had learned what his passion was, and that passion had become, or always had been, his calling.

I thought at one point, “Why does he want to be part of the gaming community?” I remembered some of the people from the gaming club in college, completely detached from reality, dabbling in very dark content. And then it made sense. I wanted Brian to care about something more important than gaming. It took me a little too long to understand that he already did; it was the gamers.

My husband wasn’t the top ad exec in the gray suit with the briefcase. He wasn’t the brilliant world-famous traveling photographer. He was a game designer, and a damn good one. His niche lay in understanding how people think and what they enjoy. His compassion is for the nerdy pale kids who get lost in dark fantasy worlds and need an alternative. His understanding is in what a proper family should be doing on a Thursday night together. He had spent the previous year and a half trying to fight what he felt God was calling him to do. He made his calling a hobby. And I had done all I could to keep it that way. Maybe the reason why nothing was working out for us was because we were trying so hard to be normal while we were never meant to be.

That’s why I was able to encourage him when he said he wanted to stop looking for work and focus on game design, to trust what he feels called to do and let go of appearances. That’s why I was able to get excited when things started to take off, rather than waiting for this phase to be over to get back to something more “reliable”.

But somehow, I’ve still been ashamed. I’ve still been loath to try to explain why we’re living with my in-laws and why Brian hasn’t filled out a single job application since April. I’ve still been afraid that things won’t work out and that I won’t be able to stick it to the nay-sayers and tell them, “Ha! See, we did it! God was guiding us. He was looking out for us. And we were following him!”

There is a lot of confirmation that we’re on the right track, but again, the story isn’t over. I don’t have a happy ending. I have a hope and a promise and a recently fulfilled Kickstarter campaign. But, I also have an amazing husband, two beautiful little boys (who sleep quite well), a wonderful and supportive family, and a God who makes all things work together for my good. I sometimes hate how it all looks, but this is what faith sometimes looks like. It looks uncertain and messy and strange. It looks crazy and illogical and foolish. It’s scary as all hell. But it’s also been the best two years of my life. Not always in feeling, but always in the reality of what God has been doing with me and in the metamorphosis I’ve endured, as a wife, as a mother, and as a disciple.

I don’t know what will come of all of this. I don’t know at what point, if ever, my husband’s calling will be traditionally profitable. I’m trying not to care that I don’t know and just appreciate the messy scary and chaotic beauty of trying something different out of what I really really hope is obedience. I know God will catch us no matter what. I just don’t know what that will look like. 

P.S. If you would like to secure a copy of Winds of Fortune from the first printing with exclusive cards, you still have three days to do so here: https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/64397847/winds-of-fortune-naval-strategy-board-card-game

P.P.S. If you want to know more about SafeHaven Games, go here: http://www.safehaven-games.com/