Five years ago yesterday — October 29, 2007 — I missed a phone call during my sorority chapter meeting. When the meeting was over, I listened to the voice mail and called right back. One hour later, I found myself on a date with Mr. S.
We got coffee and walked across campus, to Tiger Fountain. Less than three years later, we would get engaged in the same spot.
And five years ago today, I wondered what I’d gotten myself into. It wasn’t love at first sight for either one of us. We were friends for awhile and, at first, didn’t anticipate much more than that.
On paper, we couldn’t be more different. With the exception of Jesus, our interests when we met did not intersect. City mouse met country mouse. He was studying engineering, and I was studying journalism. He loved sports, and I still don’t fully understand the rules to even one sport. And even our heights are dramatically different: I’m barely 5’1″, and he’s, well, way taller.
Over five years, I’ve seen so many of those differences melt away, with beautiful, meaningful similarities in their place.
In five years, I’ve seen God transform Mr. S.’s heart. Mr. S. has lavished rich grace on me, time and time again. He points me to God when that’s the last place I want to look.
Mr. S. is grounded and practical . . . especially in those moments when I’m more than a little flighty. He not only puts up with my idiosyncrasies, but he embraces and celebrates these little quirks. And he’s more brilliant than he’d ever admit.
He’s shown me that love can be both quiet and bold, both subtle and overarching. He’s shown me that love means showing up, love means hanging in there and love means always facing the same direction.
Last night, we shared a fancy dinner and toasted to five years, and oh-so many more. (Side note, if you’re in Kansas City, I cannot recommend Gram and Dun enough. If you’re not in Kansas City, come visit and eat there with me.)
We’ve walked through more storms than I care to count. But I wouldn’t want to walk through them with anyone but him.
(And to those who knew us before, who’ve known us through it and who know us today . . . thank you. Thank you for being our cheerleaders, for encouraging us when much was bleak, for listening and loving well. Thank you.)