I am so glad that my first post about my wedding ring was so well received. It was a joy to hear how encouraged you were by it!
While brainstorming more content, I thought I’d create a small series about my husband and I that chronicles our relationship and how we were brought together. Let’s take a trip down memory lane and see how cool it is that God’s hand was right in it. Here we go!
There’s a home video of me in my late two’s and early three’s at church. I was in Sunday school and every so often, you see a cute little blonde haired boy in the background playing, doing his adorable little baby thing! I did not discover this until this past spring when watching these home videos. How adorable! I even had a bangin’ Barney birthday party at Sunday school and there’s Joshua, taking advantage of that cup of fruit punch and green/purple cupcakes! We welcome the teasing directed at me for having a Barney party, and toward him for attending. We have no shame. Those cone hats and cupcakes were on point.
Middle School Days:
After switching churches around age 7 or 8, our paths didn’t cross again until grade 6. I was the awkward, underdeveloped front row girl who just got her first major haircut (above the shoulders, for the record) and traded in those glasses for contacts. He was a regular ole’ boy who sat near the back of the class until he became the apple of every girl’s eye when Estrogen and an attention-grabbing scraped face as a result of a bike accident decided to team up and slap a GQ face on an otherwise non-GQ kind of 12 year old boy.
That was a big year. Amidst all the growth and development going on, a small seed of ashes was planted, for this girl developed a small crush that wasn’t received, and fell short among the pretty faces and cheerleader-types that attracted the most attention. Being the first feeling of rejection of sorts, it lasted the longest and stung the most. But let me make it clear that it could have been any boy. It was not a personal matter that drew me to grudges or dissension. I was still underdeveloped and not really interested too much in boys, but rather, I wanted to be “cool” so I followed the girls who’s hair was straightened and colored, who wore bras, filled out their gym shorts, and even sported more than just lip gloss or light mascara. Truly, it just wasn’t my time. It wasn’t our time.
At a birthday party for two girls who were obviously more developed, prettier, and seemingly more confident, a bit of comedy stifled some of my sadness that was undeniable in the presence of these girls who wore shorts, and one shouldered shirts. Oh, Lort. And I would be the one to have a spaghetti strap over the shoulder that was supposed to be bare. I tried to tuck it in for as long as I could, but to no avail. The shirt drooped and Lord help me if those girls were going to see that I couldn’t wear a bra yet, so I ended up pulling the strap back up to avoid humiliation.
Presently a shaving cream fight ensued. It was pretty much our entire class and a few odd characters. I stopped by the trampoline to rest since everyone had been frantically running around trying to smack each other with shaving cream. So far, I had used my defenses of lightning speed to come out unscathed. I was still clean. No one had downed me for the count yet…until Joshua. As I was leaning on the trampoline to rest, he trudged up to me looking weary from running. His head dangled a bit and he looked up at me with his mouth barely open as though he was going to say something to me… I waited on the edge…. what could he have to say to me? Time suspended and hung among the endless night sky for just a moment..until WHAP!!! I was blindsided by a perfect, playful right hook hand to the face but not without a thick dollop of shaving cream to bridge the gap. I was hit! I was hit! I quickly shook of the excess, gasped a playful girly refrain, and started in hot pursuit for the culprit. The chase ensued for a moment, but then I had to stop because some shaving cream creeped into my eye and I had to detour to warp into a medicine woman (I just grabbed a paper towel) to wipe out my eye.
How prophetic. We chase after someone or something. It is straight on till morning in our sights. But then something blocks our sight. Wool, a plank, a speck…whatever it could be. How do we get back en route? Watch out for my next post to see how the story continues. 🙂