So, in about 2 weeks, I get to celebrate 3 years of happy times with my sweet husband. In the next couple of weeks I’m going to try to get together a few posts about my hubby and the years we’ve shared together so far. Let’s start off with a little story…
The summer between 7th and 8th grade, I went to a camp called Victory Jam. I was super excited on my first day out at the beach with my friends. I was wading out a bit, and there were of course some waves, and I was just hanging out. Since it was a beach in New Jersey, not to mention I was with a billion other middle schoolers, the beach was crowded. So crowded in fact, that when a big ol’ wave came through, it knocked down the 6’3 guy in front of me…who in turn knocked me down…and as I landed on the bottom of the ocean floor, my wrist broke. Totally a whole bunch of little things that came together in one catastrophic and unfortunate second of total randomness…but that randomness nonetheless landed me in the hospital, getting a cast, and leaving a tearful message for my mom crying “THAT BIG MAN FELL ON ME AND BROKE ME!”
What does this story have to do with anything? Well, that day is my earliest memory of that “big man” that I now call my husband 🙂
We went through middle school and high school together, and while we traveled in some similar circles, we didn’t ever spend a lot of time together or become close friends. What I mostly remember is him always being behind the counter of the Chick-Fil-A at our local mall; maybe a few lunches here and there; a few retreats and conferences where we spoke in passing. He wasn’t one of the people I kept in touch with when we went away to school, and was certainly not on my radar AT ALL of someone I could potentially marry.
Flash forward. I was out of college, had been through a series of faith-testing trials, and had basically decided that I was soooo “over” high school. I kept in touch with a few people, but was mostly convinced that I couldn’t possibly have anything in common with people I grew up with, you know, since I’d done so much growing up in all the many, many (3.5, to be exact) years since graduation. I had a friend who was studying in London though, so when he wanted to hang out, I figured maybe it would be safe enough to go listen to his stories from abroad and have a little fun. He called me that day though, and let me know he had decided to invite just a few other people from high school. I immediately went and called basically the only girl I had kept in touch with from high school and said, “Here’s what’s going on. You must come with me.” She agreed, picked me up, and the entire way there I tried to get her to go somewhere else. “You know this won’t be fun. It’s dumb high school people.” 10 seconds later, “Are you hungry? Let’s go to the food court!” 10 seconds later, “Want to go see a movie? Chick flick? Action? Adventure? Your choice!” She kept driving and eventually we arrived. I am quite sure I greeted my now-husband with something wonderful and charming, like, “So, uh, you still work at Chick-Fil-A?” I am also sure that I wore my cutest clothes since I was SO excited about the night, and I definitely was looking hot. And not wearing old wrinkly clothes. And I definitely had washed my hair sometime in the last 3 days. Or maybe not.
Ended up being an awesomely fun night, and while I didn’t know it then, one of the most significant moments of my entire life. As we left that night and he asked for my number, I still didn’t know where this journey was going to lead me. All I knew at that point was that God was leading me back to a little bit of who I was, and beginning to break away some of the bitterness that had come to define me.
Who knew it would all start with a tye-tied cast??