Our first official "date" (although I wouldn't admit to anyone that we were actually "dating" - we were just "doing dating things") consisted on M shopping for some new clothes at American Eagle and Gap (he was stylin'!) and ended at the coffee shop inside Barnes and Noble just down Winchester.
Even though I was skeptical and slow to admitting it, something was intriguing about this guy.
He was super talkative, transparent, honest, and most of all, it was evident he loved Jesus.
Not to mention, kinda cute.
But he loved Jesus in a new and fresh way - in a way that was intriguing, contagious, and REAL.
The story of Christ's redemptive work in our lives, despite the brokenness in our families, despite the brokenness in our own hearts and lives, was magnetic in our budding relationship.
I think we talked for 2 hours in that little corner of the coffee shop.
And agreed to meet again soon.
This was September of 2002. By February, there was already talk of marriage.
Marriage, y'all.
Looking back on this time, I still can't believe things progressed so quickly.
And everyone else couldn't either.
I mean, I was 18 at the time. Eight. Teen.
I was barely out of the house. Barely on my own. Barely experiencing the freedom college life had to offer.
My foggy-brained, starry-eyed gaze trumped my aspirations to finish college and go to med. school.
Others, and even myself at times, found this to be crazy. I was too young. I had my whole life ahead of me. I had aspirations. And goals. And dreams.
But I have a God who is sovereign in all things. A God who holds my meager, insignificant and yet utterly significant life in His hands, a God who does not make mistakes. And although I didn't know it at the time, he was orchestrating and molding my life into what He wanted it to be. HE wanted it to be. And the desires of my heart were not being torn away from me. Rather, Jesus was working in and changing my heart. His desires were becoming my desires.
And as much as I love and adore my, now, husband, He is not meant to be the object of my desire, but, rather, Christ. But I believe, my relationship with my, then, boyfriend, now, husband, was a means by which he was drawing me closer to Himself and leading me down the path he predestined for my life.
So, Valentine's Day 2003, M and I ate a delicious meal at Macaroni Grill, made a stop at the fairly new Wolfchase Galleria, then headed home.
On the way home, as we were listening to "our song" by Lifehouse (come on, y'all, you know you liked that band too), M brought up the big M.
Marriage.
I was utterly speechless.
Not the kind of speechless where you don't say anything for a few minutes, then regain your composure. This was literal speechlessness. As in, I LITERALLY did not utter a word from Wolfchase until we stopped in the Olive Branch Park. A good 40 minute drive.
This took the whole "my head is reeling" from the time I opened that email in my dorm room to a Whole. Nutha. Level. (Coach from Mad TV reference anyone?)
M put his white Honda in park. He let me sit silently until I was ready to speak.
I finally opened my mouth and uttered, "yes, let's get married."
We hadn't decided when M was going to propose, because naturally that would be a surprise, but we had decided that M, in fact, would propose.
On March 20, 2003, my 19th birthday, while I was working at Signs First in Memphis, M called and said he'd wanted to pick me up from my mom's house in Olive Branch.
I agreed to meet him there but needed to drive back to the dorm to change clothes and "freshen up."
Feeling adventurous and a little giddy because it was my birthday, I picked out pink American Eagle corduroy pants, a black mock turtleneck, and black clogs - only the classiest attire for my guy.
I drove the 30 minutes to my house to find M waiting for me outside.
I hopped in the car. M proceeded to blindfold me. And we were on our way.
I never asked where we were going. We were at the point in our relationship that "it didn't matter where we were going as long as we were together."
We arrived at our destination.
M led me inside.
He untied the blindfold.
What I saw was beautiful.
Our church sanctuary was decorated with a Christmas tree strung with white lights on the stage. The lights were dim. Candles adorned the steps. Everything was glittering and twinkling.
A mixture of giddiness and dim lights caused me to miss the most important thing that adorned the tree.
A ring box.
And what followed is kind of a blur in my mind.
I remember M pulling up a scrap of paper from his pocket and reading it to me. I'm sure it was wonderful, and I wish we still had it. But the memory and feelings I had at the time are what I can reminisce about now.
He got down on one knee and asked me if I would spend my life with him.
I must have uttered "yes" though the exact memory escapes me.
He slipped the ring on my finger.
(This was the ring that he had matched perfectly to a picture I had showed my roommate. He'd picked it out from a jeweler in the same mall where we'd had our first date.)
We embraced.
We tried to sit down and eat the meal of Applebees takeout though the butterflies in my stomach hardly allowed me to enjoy a bite.
We were REALLY doing this.
We were really getting married.
And I couldn't have been happier.
( To be continued....)
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