• Jena

6th of August.. a special day for us.


Here is the man I fell in love with back in 1989.  He was a young 1Lt. B-52 pilot stationed at K.I.  Sawyer AFB, MI.  He would show up for prayer meeting looking just like this, minus the helmet and glasses.  He obviously wasn’t coming to THAT prayer meeting for all of the good looking girls, since it was basically a group of senior citizens crowded around a cottage living room.  He spoke slowly and clearly.  He knew the Word of God and was comfortable expressing himself about it.  There was something man-like in him that was far beyond anyone else I had ever met.  

I wasn’t looking for love either.  I really wanted security–the kind of security that comes from not being with people your own age.  I liked the old folks.  I liked the no-nonsense non-emotional approach they took when they read the Bible.  It was in sharp contrast to everything I had known.  I was intrigued by this new fella, but I didn’t want to entangle myself.. not now.. not yet.. I had college to finish.  I was only starting my junior year.  I had finally declared a major–I was going to be an English teacher.  The hardest part of my schooling was just about to start.  

And yet there was something.. I couldn’t get him out of my mind.  I argued with God.. pleaded.. to remove the thought of him.  Until I wondered if this COULD be from God.  

He, I guess, was intrigued by me also.  He had heard of my struggles with the issues of head covering and women’s silence in the church and liked my conclusions.  I never knew one way or the other. 

But then..

God got his attention.  Actually, one of the elders ( Jim Watson) pointed him toward me.  By the end of the summer, he had mustered the courage to ask me out for the first time.  I was elated.  Our first date was a cooking/hospitality adventure.  We planned a meal together and served it to guests at his apartment.  He ended the evening by giving me a small hymnal that did not have musical notes written in it.  I figured it was like a book of poetry.  

I returned to college a week later, tears of sadness mixed with excitement.  He continued on his duties as a pilot.  I received a letter the first day of real classes. (A letter with an envelope–for those of you too young for such luxuries)  It was classy and hand-written.  I have saved every one. After a few days, it was Saturday.  I received a phone call.  So it was for a year–a few letters followed by one phone call a week.  

During the summer, I enrolled in summer school, so I didn’t return home until June.  It was a hard summer, but it ended well.  All during this courtship process, I had this nagging question in my mind.  It was this: if he asks me to marry him, will I say “yes”?  I could not come to a peace about it.  There wasn’t any reason to say no, but I didn’t feel a “yes” either.  

One day in August, we were at an outing with my family.  On the way home, we rode home quietly.  I think we may have held hands, which was the limit on any type of physical contact.  But on this night, as he said goodbye to me, I looked into his eyes and just knew.  I had received my answer from God.  I was prepared to say “yes”.

That next day of Aug. 6th, 1990.  We planned a picnic on the picturesque Sugar Loaf Mountain in Marquette.  It was cold.  We made hot chocolate for the day, along with all other kinds of food.  We walked up the “mountain” with our lunch and set everything out to eat.  Before we ate, he asked if he could read a Psalm.  Psalm 34.  When he had read through the entire passage, he stopped.  He re-read.. “Magnify the Lord with me..” and for the first time told me he loved me and gave me the first kiss.  He asked me if I would be his wife, and said, “yes”, with a complete assurance and peace from God.  We were married Aug. 26, 1991.

At our 14 year point

This past summer–17 years

Submitted to Scribbit’s Aug. 2008 Writing Contest

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