Friday, March 26, 2010

I love him!

My husband, that is. Not because of anything in particular he's done recently (not that he's done anything bad, either); I just love him!

I got inspired about reading The Pioneer Woman's blog to blog about my love story, which probably began when I was born and my parents started praying for my future husband. I remember waking up early on Saturday morning, when I was younger, and hearing the low murmurs of my parents' voices from the living room. I would creep through the hallway and hear them praying. Sometimes, I would stand there and listen for a few minutes and sometimes, I would come in and lay in my mom's lap while they would continue to pray. Nevertheless, I remember that they always prayed for mine and my sister's future husbands, whoever they would be.

Fastforward 15 years.

Some of my friends had boyfriends all the way from kindergarten to high school. Me, not so much. At the time, I always figured that I was just unattractive and nerdy. Maybe I was. I think, now, though, that maybe God was just preparing me for that one right person. Ok, confession time: my husband was not the first person I kissed. Actually, he was the second (ok, laugh it up!). He was and is my first true love, though (no matter what I may have thought about anyone else).

He is two years older than me and we went to the same primary, middle, and high school, but I never really knew him until high school. I mean, I didn't really know him, then, but I knew who he was. He was friends with my friends, but not with me--if that makes any sense. When I was in 10th grade, we ended up in chorus class together. He is not a terrible singer (and honey, don't take this the wrong way) but he was not there because of his voice. If anyone has ever taken a high school chorus class, you know that usually there are many girls and several less guys. That being said, he actually had a girlfriend who was in chorus class, too.

For most of high school, I was one of the shyest people I have ever met. I especially didn't want anyone to hear me sing. He would always lean forward and try to hear me. "Sing louder; I can't hear you," he'd tease. Oh, he was so aggravating! Sometimes, we would chat on the internet after school or at night. Usually, it was just a "Hey" "What are you doing?" "Nothing, you?" "Just sitting here" conversation. Sometimes, he called me "kid", which I found really condescending.

In January, out of the blue, he asked me to go to his senior prom (he and his girlfriend had broken up) "just as friends." I agreed only because my best friend at the time, who was dating a junior, begged me to go and keep her company. Michael and I starting getting together to get to know each other and evetually, "just friends" ended up dating. What ensued could only be described as drama. Since I'll never be 100% sure of everything that happened, that's all I'll say. Drama, drama, drama which eventually turned into me not only being forbidden to go to the prom, but not being allowed to date him.

My tender 15 year-old heart was broken, and the only way I could see to keep it together was to hold on to the relationship. No, it was not "on the up-and-up." It was not the honest thing to do, not the mature thing to do, and definitely not the godly thing to do, but....I did. It was what it was, and God evetually brought it to light. I'm sure I disappointed my parents, and I know that they continued to spend hours praying dor me. It was a dark time in my life. I couldn't imagine my life without Michael, but things were not working out. The summer before my senior year, when I wasn't babysitting, I spent a lot of time moping on the couch....


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