Sometimes, the life you hoped for shows up while you’re busy living the one you’ve been given.
When I wrote my first book, Single Servings (a devotional for singles), over twenty years ago, I wondered if I’d ever get married. At the time, I was thirty-seven years old and hadn’t been in a serious relationship for twenty years.
All sorts of possible reasons ran through my mind. Maybe I didn’t have the looks or the money or the personality or the confidence or … or … or. But I had God, and if I never married, I knew I could settle into a contented life … most of the time, at least.
I served where I could. I played the role of a caregiver more than once. I started my own business. And I stayed connected with friends. The last thing I wanted to do was to wait to start living until I found a spouse. None of us are promised tomorrow. So why wait for something that may never happen?
But I didn’t wait perfectly.
I had my woe-is-me moments as I talked to friends, wondering if I would die a lonely old man. Even then, God showed up.
One friend’s wife made plans for me to move to her home state in a few years with her and her husband, telling me they’d find a house with an apartment over the garage where I could live.
Another friend planned to make room for me with him and his wife in their house.
And yet another talked about us rooming together.
I had found peace with the idea that deep friendships might be the closest thing I’d experience to lasting companionship.
Then something unexpected happened.
I met a woman.
Actually, I’d known her for quite a while, but not well. As a fellow writer, we were part of the same small group that met to write in various coffee shops and restaurants. After one of those events, we stuck around and started to talk. Well, mostly I talked, and she listened – really well.
That led to a beautiful friendship, and it was my turn to listen. From there, we were inseparable.
She traveled with me to the small town where I used to visit a buddy who died in 2022, and she gave me space to mourn my loss, while supporting me at the same time. And I found healing there.
We got caught in a hailstorm on the way to the movies – one of those oddly memorable moments that will be stored in our memory banks forever.
On a noisy July 4 evening, we sat around the fire pit in my backyard for an informal cleansing ceremony, watching a list of lies go up in smoke.
A couple of months later, our friendship turned into more. And the cool thing was, we had built our romantic relationship on a solid foundation of friendship. Since then, we’ve gone on even more excursions.
In October, we drove down to Nebraska City on a whim and visited an orchard, where we laughed and played and talked.
Later in the winter, we went to one of our favorite spots along the Missouri River and watched chunks of ice float by, while having our second informal cleansing ceremony.
Finally, on Valentine’s Day, I got down on one knee and asked her to do me the honor of becoming my wife.
And she said yes!
In two weeks, our marriage will become a reality. And I cannot wait to step into my new life with her. But I have to say, this new season feels less like a finish line and more like a continuation of what God’s been building all along. And I’m so very grateful for that.
