I’m feeling rather small. Quiet. Plain.
And my story seems just as small, quiet, and plain.
Kinda boring, if I’m honest with myself.
Boring and small, yes, but telling it makes me feel closer to the One who is writing it.
So this afternoon, I begin again.
Fall blew into winter and winter melted into spring and I drank so much coffee and ate scripture like it was truly meant to be eaten. I journaled until my fingers ached. I read Oswald Chambers and Kay Arthur and sat at the feet of women who really loved Christ.
I retreated to the coffee shop when the incessant chatter from the dorm rattled my soul and threatened to be my undoing. I filled my calendar with good things and God things and made friends with great girls. I attended the mission trip to New Orleans with that red headed boy and the girls who would eventually become my best friends.
And in late February, while in New Orleans, that red headed boy with whom I had spoken only a handful of sentences to, sat me down and asked me the one question that would turn my neat, orderly, new found life in Jesus on its head.
“How do you feel about me?” he asked with a big ‘ole grin on his face.
“Do you honestly want me to tell you?” I asked in return. He nodded.
“I think I’m going to marry you,” I answered as confidently as I could.
He looked at me like I had lost my mind and he said nothing.
Nothing at all.
For 2 days, he avoided me like the plague.
I never waivered. I had heard the Lord, and I was prepared to wait on that boy for 2 years.
But God never works in the ways that we want Him to, and He was hard at work putting His fingers all over my neat plan.
One week later, that red headed boy asked me out on our first date.
Two weeks after that, I took him home to meet my family.
And by the middle of March, we were committed to working towards marriage.
It was a crazy whirlwind of a romance, if you could even call it that.
We sat up to all hours of the night, talking and dreaming about life. We were crazy about one another and about following the Lord.
Little did we know that with summer break approaching, the enemy was prowling closer than we could have ever imagined.
And by summer’s end, I would have bought his second lie.