reset 06/23/99
I lived a boring life by most standards throughout high school and college. I didn't date until I was a senior in high school. School work came first. Physically, I was less mature than my peers. I had an August birthday, but I think one extra year wouldn't have changed much. I was also kind of small. As a high school freshman, I was under five feet tall and weighed less than 100 pounds. I had discovered girls, but girls hadn't discovered me. That was fine.
At the end of my junior year, I went off to Houston for an engineering summer camp held at Rice University. I had never been totally on my own before. I knew no one in Houston, and not a soul knew me. After my parents drove off, there I was on a college campus, getting a taste of what it was like to be independent. Of course, I wasn't financially independent, but neither did I want to be.
At that camp, I found myself in the midst of other students with high academic standards from all over Texas and Louisiana, and some of them weren't guys. Although there were a few stereotypical girls who had interest and talent in science and math, some appeared to be regular folks -- just like me. Naturally, I didn't consider myself a nerd at all. A few girls, in fact, were quite pretty. One was particularly cute, and she was attracted to me too. I quickly found out that I didn't even know how to handle a girlfriend. In a romantic moment, I thought a soft, gentle kiss was appropriate. I was indoctrinated into the world of French kissing rather unexpectedly. I felt very awkward. What was this girl doing? I did all I could do just to keep from biting her tongue. I was treading on new ground, but I also knew that when the summer session was over, we'd go back to our respective lives hundreds of miles away. I was just me, and that seemed to be good enough. The summer session did end. I had learned a lot about engineering, but I'd never look at girls the same way again.
When I return to Austin, I resumed my normal summertime activities. Swimming offered a cool break from the Texas sun. Now my parents have their own pool, but back then, we had to use the municipal pool. It was a few miles away. I was of driving age, but both of my parents worked, leaving no motorized transport for the recreational driver. I enjoyed riding my bike over and back anyway. Over was okay because you could look forward to a refreshing swim. Back ... well, back kind of defeated the purpose of going to the pool in the first place. By the time I'd get home, I'd be hot, sweaty, and tired. I discovered, though, that if I got on my bike with wet clothes and with a wet towel around my neck, by the time I reached home I'd be dry and considerably more comfortable. On one such excursion, I was confronted by a couple of girls I knew from school at the pool entrance. For some reason, they wanted to talk to me. They had my divided attention as their swimming attire made it difficult to converse coherently. I honestly don't remember the second girl, but the first was about to change my life forever.
When school began again, I entered the dating world. It took considerable courage for me to ask out my bikini friend, but I did, and she said yes. We went on a handful of dates before I was informed that she was also seeing someone else. That didn't really bother me, but I don't know why not. I guess I didn't know any better. I continued to casually date that same girl for the next five years. I was definitely in love, but I was never the boyfriend. There was always someone else in the picture to keep me in close friend status. I knew for certain that one day she would be my wife, and I told her so. God's will was never so clear to me. When she was involved with other guys, I'd date others too. More than a single date with the same girl was a rarity though.
Over that time period, I developed patience that would rival Job. I look now upon that period as a gift. God was molding my character like a lump of clay. Many times that's what I felt like -- a pile of gelatinous mush. Nevertheless, time was my ally. When you're a plane in a holding pattern, you learn how to conserve energy. You learn how to stay above the clouds and ride with the currents. You recognize that it's not your turn and staying where you are is for your own good. You also learn not to sweat the small stuff. If I was ever to develop ulcers, I would have then. I worried a lifetime's worth of worrying over those years. I gave new meaning to the phrase waiting on the Lord.
Today, I have no worries whatsoever. I occasionally have deep concerns, but never worries. I recognize what is under my control and what isn't. I know that events inside and outside my sphere of influence are being handled by my heavenly Father, who never worries a bit, so why should I. The Bible teaches it, so I choose to believe it and live it. That doesn't mean that I am a fatalist, because I'm not. I do not believe that I am disconnected from this world -- that it doesn't matter what I say or do because what has been deemed to take place will happen with me or in spite of me. In the book of Proverbs, the Bible says that only a fool does not avoid danger. I know God has given me an intellect and expects me to make the most of it, just as any other gift, spiritual or otherwise.
Back to my story ... One Christmas season, my Sunday School department decided to have a party. The class directors offered their home as a gathering place. I had invited my non-girlfriend, and she had agreed to accompany me. There I was. I was with the girl of my dreams among Christian friends. Christmas is a great time of year too. People are cheerful and relaxed. Aside from specific nationally recognized days like Valentine's Day or Mother's Day, Christmas is perhaps the only time of year when people have a freedom to express love to others without coercion or guilt. The party was in full swing when something I'd never have anticipated happened. The doorbell rang. Another couple joined the party. I didn't recognize the guy, and the girl had only come to our class once or twice before. I suddenly felt weird. I found myself almost wishing that I hadn't brought my dream date. I had thoughts of wanting to trade places with whoever the stranger was so that I could be with his date. She was beautiful, but she hardly spoke a word all night -- and certainly not to me. Her name was Rose. She had an exotic appearance -- dark skin, high cheekbones, long black hair in tight waves. Still, she had a sophisticated countenance reflected in her clothes, her posture, her smile, and her quietness. When the evening ended, I decided that I had to find out more about this new girl, but that depended completely on her returning to visit our Sunday School class -- something completely out of my control, but I was an expert on those situations.
Thankfully, she did return, and from the class role, I was able to match a last name, an address, and a phone number to my Rose. I called her one day to ask her to join me for lunch on campus. You see, I also knew that we attended the same university. I can't tell you which one, but it is the big one in central Texas with 50,000 students or so. A rendez-vous on campus definitely had to be a planned event. Rose didn't know who was calling her. I guess I blended in with the woodwork pretty well. Having an introverted personality, I never attracted attention. I never wanted to attract attention to myself. Later Rose admitted that she only agreed to meet me because I was a Christian. She didn't know who was going to show up at the sandwich shop that day for a harmless luncheon engagement, only that she might recognize me as a familiar face upon meeting. That was almost our one and only meeting outside of Sunday School. During lunch, I found out that she was considerably older than I would have guessed, she was Hispanic, she had served in the U. S. Navy, she was divorced, and she had a daughter who was already 10! I really didn't know if I wanted to hear any more. When the lunch ended, my mind was racing as to what I should say in parting. For some reason, of all possible actions, I asked if I could see her again. She said she didn't know, but when pressed, she asked me to give her a call.
Well, the next encounter or so exposed even more reasons for me to back away. As it turns out, Rose was dirt poor, she was in debt to her neck, and she was an emotional roller coaster. I listened in shock to her life story. Rose never knew her parents. You see, her father murdered her mother in a jealous rage when she was a toddler. She grew up in a small Texas town with an overbearing grandmother and a loving, but passive, grandfather. She had married out of necessity and was a parent by the age I first began dating. Rose had grown up in a culture in which prejudice was openly displayed between Hispanics and Anglos. Rose had not valued education earlier in life, especially in high school. This was the kind of person I would have gone great lengths to avoid just a few short years earlier. However, Rose was now trying to make her life situation better. She could use some help, and there I was.
I suppose there was very little we did have in common. I never missed a college hometown football or basketball game. She'd never gone to a one. I liked outdoor activity. She avoided exposure to the sun. Despite serving in the Navy, Rose could not swim. Despite living in Hawaii when married to her Marine ex-husband, Rose never went to the beach. Rose did like to jog. I didn't, but I did it to keep in shape for an occasional 10k race. I had always been close to my family. Rose didn't know what it was like to have parents. All she knew were in-laws, and she didn't desire any more exposure on that front. I reacon we had little in common beyond living in the same town, attending the same university, and going to the same church.
I don't even know how Rose ended up at my church. It was a considerable distance away. Besides, her daughter was enrolled in a Christian school at another Baptist church with lots to offer. It could be nothing short of divine appointment.
After more than two years of dating, Rose confronted me. Her memory of those events is somewhat different, but I recall Rose informing me that an old boyfriend was returning to town. She wanted to know where our relationship was going then and there. I choose to interpret the remainder of the conversation as Rose asking me to marry her. I was not really thinking that far ahead, but I loved Rose and thought I could bring stability to her troubled life. Despite our differences, we set our minds upon a relationship which would culminate in marriage. We still had a rather large looming problem. Rose was going to school on the GI Bill, and in less than a year, she'd owe Uncle Sam three years of service somewhere as an Army nurse. She had jumped from the Navy into the Army for better career opportunities as a military nurse. I, however, was still a few years away from earning my doctorate degree and would not be going anywhere anytime soon.
When Rose graduated, she received orders to report for duty in the San Francisco Bay area. We knew that carrying on a long distance relationship was against the odds. At the end of one year apart, we hastened a reunion by planning a wedding ceremony. Rose took care of invitations and her dress. I took care of the rest.
After two years of separation, Rose came back to Texas for an August wedding. The invitations had gone out long ago, however, Rose didn't quite get the dress thing taken care of. She was okay from the neck down, but the veil which was custom-made in Mexico didn't make the trip. Rose had her daughter, Angie, sewing extra beads on a store-bought substitute the night before the wedding. I wasn't upset at all about the window dressing, but I was concerned that the window might not show up. I got word she'd arrived at the church only five minutes prior to the scheduled ceremony. We got a late start on marriage, but it transpired. The service was great, and so was the reception -- the work of an expert planner. We had two songs at our wedding. I had written them both. One was a love song, the other a prayer. The words to the song of prayer had particular relevance to our relationship's survival through physical separation.
Lord, I missed her today.
Keep with her I pray, and
One day we two will be
One, united in you,
Two hearts burnin' to do
All in the name of the Lord.
We will rejoice in your
Love, unbounded and true.
Praise, we lift it to you
In hope these things I pray,
All in the name of the
Lord, I missed her today
Keep with her I pray, and
One day we two will be
One, united in you,
Two hearts burnin' to do
All in the name of the Lord.
We will rejoice in your
Love ...
I lacked about six months to receive my degree. Rose owed Uncle Sam an additional year. In lieu of a true honeymoon, I drove back to California with Rose and my step-daughter, Angie, now 16. After a week or so, I flew back to Texas to resume my studies. We were separated again. Although it would be short-lived, I wasn't sure when and where we would be able to initiate a life together under the same roof. As it turned out, it was almost one year to the date. Today, I tell Rose that the first year of marriage was the best.
Have you ever been separated from someone you love very much? I have. God has. You see, God loves us all beyond measure, but we are separated from God by the smallest of sins. We are God's handiwork, and God wants nothing more than to be reunited with us in this life and throughout eternity. John 3:16, probably the most quoted verse of the Bible, says, "For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life."
Aside from our relationship with God, the most important loving relationship we enter is with our spouse. Who is beside you, and what set of circumstances brought you together? Better yet, what kind of commitment do you have to that person? As my wife constantly reminds me, I have to love her. We took an oath before God. The breakup of a marriage is not just between two people, even when no children are involved. Can you break a contract with God? I can't. Perhaps, some of those getting married by a Justice of the Peace are doing so in the thought of excluding God. Surprise, the marriage contract is no less. The Bible cites marital unfaithfulness of a spouse as grounds for a divorce, but Malachi 2:16 says God hates divorce. For those who have experienced divorce, as has my wife, God is merciful. The churches of America are full of people just like you.
For those who are unmarried, don't be consumed by looking for a spouse. Singles are the most easily mobilized population for Christian service. No matter what our marital status, we should be in search of God's will. In doing so, your chances of finding a faithful lifemate will skyrocket. If we spend our time looking for a mate in nightclubs and bars, we greatly increase the work before us to separate the wheat from the chaff, assuming there is any grain in those establishments beyond the pretzels.
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reset 06/23/99