The Gap Decade by Katie Schnack

Author:Katie Schnack
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Adulting;emerging adult;young adult;twentysomething;twenty something;in your twenties;in your 20s;gap year;gap decade;life transitions;transitions in your twenties;jobs in your twenties;relationships in your twenties;in your thirties;thirty something;grad school;career;vocation;calling;marriage;miscarriage;parenting in your twenties;quarter life crisis;extended adolescence;money in your twenties;anxiety for young adults;anxiety in your twenties;adulthood;memoir;millennial;gen z;generation z
Publisher: InterVarsity Press
Published: 2021-07-28T12:21:45+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

LEARN TO TRUST GOD’S PROVISION WHEN YOU ARE BROKE LIKE A JOKE

When we managed to get out of our apartment, living in New York City was a beautiful experience. All around us was art, energy, and excitement. The ability to walk to the New York Public Library’s main branch in Manhattan on a Saturday afternoon and be swept away by the sheer grandeur of it amazed me. And it was just a public library! There were odd people looking up questionable things on the public internet, surrounded by architectural excellence—only in New York. Some Sundays we would leave for church an hour earlier than normal and take the ferry across the Hudson to Lower Manhattan, the wind whipping our hair back as we turned our faces toward the sun. Every single time I marveled at the gigantic skyline in front of us that seemed to go on forever, as it never got old.

When we got off the boat, we would walk all the way to our church in Midtown, taking our time as we passed through neighborhood after neighborhood—Tribeca, SoHo, Greenwich, Chelsea—all wrapped in the golden early morning glow. The further we walked, the more they came alive with that New York City buzz as the city’s quieter neighborhoods and side streets slowly woke up around us. I even loved taking the train home after late nights downtown with friends at restaurants or bars we would only go to once because there were millions more to explore after that. I would rest my head on Kyle’s shoulder and close my eyes during the commute as the entire world seemed to whip by out the train window. I also loved our neighborhood’s open studio art nights. Kyle and I would walk the dark city streets, hand in hand, and pop into a gallery for a free glass of wine and see all the creativity our little sixth borough had to offer.1 I even kind of enjoyed the more challenging parts of living in the city, like learning how to grocery shop. Hot tip: when you are shopping by yourself and it’s dark, cold, and rainy, it isn’t the best time to purchase a twenty pound box of cat litter, which you then have to haul several blocks home and up three flights of stairs. But even with challenging cat litter mistakes, it all had a bit of magic and adventure to it.

Except for one thing. There was one thing that wasn’t all that magical. And definitely not a fun adventure. Money, honey. We were broke in a way we had never been before. Dang it. Don’t you hate it when that happens?

Sure, we had never been rich by any means. We got married very young, finished undergrad, then grad school, then jumped right into one of the most expensive places to live in the entire country, both of us working in the arts—all these things are the polar opposite of a get-rich-quick scheme. We were working more on the “good luck out there, bro” level.

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