From my window seat, I looked past my own reflection, toward the tarmac.
My suitcase ascended the conveyor belt with the other luggage the baggage handlers had hauled off carts while we boarded. My eyes widened when I witnessed something I hadn't before: a baggage handler, carrying a crate toward the plane. In it, two young, curious yellow labs sniffed their surroundings before riding up the belt into the aircraft.
I gasped audibly, delighted as I always am by the existence of dogs. But when I gasped, the stranger in the seat beside mine started to panic.
"What is it?" he said. "What do you see?" Already buckled, he strained to look out the window, anxious to know what threat could have inspired my gasp.
"PUPPIES!" I exclaimed, with actual glee—which is when the man scowled at me.
"Don't DO that!" he requested, clearly distressed about flying. I apologized, but I laughed. I never expected a puppy-related gasp to result in such tension in a stranger. But my gasp didn't cause his stress—his assumptions caused his stress.
We all cause our own stress more than we realize.
You do it when significant others don't respond to a text and you worry whether it means they don't want you anymore. Or when you treat the people you like as if none of them like you. It's in carrying a chip on your shoulder about the fact that you're still single—and it's in believing you'll be single forever.
To be frank, you might be right.
A lot of what crosses your mind probably is within the realm of possibility. But when we are stuck in cycles of negative thoughts, we forget: A lot of what crosses our minds is also improbable. So we roll with our assumptions. But assuming the worst doesn't just hurt your relationships. It hurts your chances of getting into a permanent one.
If you routinely assume your significant other doesn't return a text or call because he or she is about to end your relationship, you'll actually feel rejected. And how do you treat a person who rejects you? You disconnect. You become distant. You create conditions in which relationships can't last.
When you assume most people don't like you, you'll behave around them as if they actually don't.
You'll be standoffish—which is exactly the real reason the people you hope will approach you probably won't.
And if you're mad all the time about how single you are, about how "unfair" it is that the people you've wanted to date didn't want to date you, no one will want to date you.
Yes, the man you're dating might decide to stop dating you. But the two hours it takes him to text you back isn't proof of that. A woman you like might not like you back. But if you're standoffish, she almost definitely won't. It's possible, too, that you'll never get married. But if you're such a downer about it that your company drains the people you meet, you definitely won't.
But that isn't even really the problem.
The problem is when you think that's the problem—when you think you won't be OK without whatever it is that you want. We are so consumed by getting what we desire that we don't consider how good God still is when we don't.
So we make assumptions, which are details we fabricate but treat like facts, and take them too far. We ask "what if" when we don't even have to. What if he dumps me? What if she doesn't like me? What if I never get married? What if...
We dwell on our "what if" questions without challenging those thoughts—without asking any other questions.
Is it relevant? Does what worries me actually apply to my life (or am I worried about whether a guy I'm not even dating yet is going to dump me)?
Is it rational? Do I have actual evidence that supports my assumption? Or is my boyfriend's very clear commitment to and love for me evidence that the two hours it took him to text me back, in fact, probably doesn't mean he's planning to dump me?
Is it worth it? What do I accomplish by taking my "what if" questions too far, by staying stuck in this cycle?
Is there anything better I could spend this time and energy on?
Yes. It's far more worthwhile when you've asked "what if" to let it go by declaring "even if."
What if he dumps me? Even if he does, God is good. What if she doesn't like me? Even if she doesn't, God is good. What if I never get married? Even if I don't, God is good.
And if God is good, I—His beloved child—am OK. If I have Him, I have everything I need—even if I don't get what I want.
