Dateaversary

Sometimes the thing you know you're supposed to do doesn't make sense.

Ten years ago last week, after work, I caught up with T, one of the other band directors on staff and one of my best buddies, and had a conversation that looked something like this:

Me: I gotta talk to you.

T: Yes...?

Me: Well, um... uh... one of the other directors...

T, who had two kids (at the time) and needed to get moving, which I completely understand now: ...likes you.  I know.  It's obvious!  So what are you gonna do?

Me, still quite annoyed by the whole male community: I don't know.

I'm sure I said more than that.  But the gist of it was that I'd tried this relationship thing.  It never ended well.  That's an understatement.  Around the two-month mark, it always ended quite badly.  I was NOT... repeat NOT... up for another go-around.  I was not up for being ripped apart again, thank you very much.  I loved my job, and for the time being, wanted to try to concentrate on being married to it.

The first time I agreed to something you could call a date... as in, I didn't run around and try to get all the other directors to come too because I was scared... was a few days later.  It was a Thursday, and we had the instrument drive, so we couldn't do dinner.  But Monsters, Inc. was coming out on video, and I agreed to watching it in my apartment.

My mind was screaming WE TALKED ABOUT THIS. NO MORE MEN. RUN. 

But something compelled me to stay put.  Partly because the poor guy was really nice, and partly because my friend J, at a wedding the previous weekend, asked me a very pointed question. 

How many more guys are you going to refuse to give a chance because of that last guy?  

He said a lot of other stuff too, but that stuck.  It rang through my head and my heart.  J was a godly man himself, and had been through the last major mess with me.  I mean, he was my big brother and really took care of me.  Lots of calling, lots of driving, took care of me.  And God used him again to tell me to give this new guy a shot.  

So I took this next shaky step of a first date.  

And then another that Saturday.  

And then, the next Wednesday, he asked me over to watch TV, and asked me to marry him.  That Friday we had a bye week, so no game... and we picked out a ring. 

The next Thursday he officially gave me the ring on a dance floor overlooking the city after an incredible, elaborate, intricately timed and planned date. 

After agonizing, searching, trying to make it happen, in a head-spinning two weeks, I found the one my soul loves.  

It didn't make sense.  We didn't date for a year, or even six months... or even a month.  We were engaged for about nine months, and around the two month mark, guess what?  I freaked out.  

It was too good.  Too fairy tale.  Something was surely going to go wrong.  He was surely tired of me by now.  Everyone else had been.  But this was different. He took my hand.  He dried my tears.  

You see this ring?  This means I promise I want to spend the rest of my life with you.  I promise.  

Ten years later, not only are we still married... we're even happier than we were then.  But I had to... we had to... step out and try.  Over the years I've asked over and over how in the world he knew... how he was brave enough to ask me to spend the rest of my life with him after such a short time, and the answer is simple.  He just knew.  

In the last ten years, God has proven time and time again that He holds us.  He has grown us closer than we ever understood possible, and has shown us repeatedly that what seems to be normal or widely accepted isn't always best.  

Looking back to even before we met teaching, we are amazed at the amount of times we saw each other, or were in the same room, even spent the whole day three chairs away from each other in a room of five people and never really met until it was time.  Yes, we were introduced, but we forgot each other as quickly as we spoke our names.  

So today, even though we're not going to see each other for more than an hour, we're more together than ever.  And I guarantee you that we're both thanking God for his sovereignty and providence.  

Thanks be to God for my sweet Eric.