I'm rereading the story of Ruth again. I am always blown away by the loyalty Ruth shows Naomi in Chapter 1. Questions race through my head. Questions like: What did Naomi do to make her such an awesome mother-in-law? What was Ruth's life like in Moab before she married Naomi's son? Was she an adventurer at heart like me? Did going back to her old life sound mundane? What was she thinking?!
Anyway, I like to think that she was an adventurer at heart. She was ready for the challenge and had a partner in crime, who just happened to be her mother-in-law. Whatever the case, her story has been used in countless ways to encourage girls like me.
As a teenager and college student, I couldn't help but wonder about the man God had in store for me to marry. I would think about him often and dream about the day we'd be together. I played up marriage in my mind like it was a fairy tale of some sort. Would he be tall, dark and handsome? Would he have a southern family that ate together and celebrated holidays the way I was used to? Would he sing or preach or perhaps even be a missionary? Where would we live, and what would our life look like together? All these questions raced through my head, and as I got older I began to seek out these types of gentlemen. Anytime I would meet a guy, I'd wonder to myself if he was potential prospect.
Enter Mike Wolfe. 5'10", able to hold a decent tan, with boyishly handsome features. Adventurer, loyal friend, hard worker, and definitely not from the South. I wasn't convinced on our first few encounters with each other. Nice guy? Yes. Husband material? I wasn't too sure.
Fast forward six years. It was six years ago (to the weekend) that I went on my first date with this boy from Gary, Indiana. I remember it clearly. He picked me up in his green minivan from the camp where I was working and living. We drove down to Waikiki to a nice restaurant where we just missed our reservation. All the while, I still felt like something wasn't right. We were friends and did things together often, but could I picture this man as my husband? Thoughts swirled and jumbled in my head as we ate at an alternate (and expensive) location. He sealed the deal after dinner by taking my hand and giving me his jacket. It was then that I knew something was different. "Friends" don't hold hands on dates.
I'm not exactly sure how a relationship goes from friendship to romance, but ours did that night. We talked about the things we wanted in a future spouse, we held hands, and I knew that the affection displayed (however small it may have been) was mutual.
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| A pre-engagement hike. |
On this week leading up to Valentine's Day, I think about the two love's of my life: Jesus Christ and my husband. I hope that I will never put my husband above Christ. It's easy to trust in the tangible. To trust that a paycheck will take care of me. That my husband's embrace will make all my frustrations dissipate. This morning, I pray that I would turn my eyes to Jesus--the author and finisher of my faith who is seated at God's right hand--and spend the necessary time with him in prayer. I hope that by spending time together, I would fall more in love with the Savior who loved me before there was time.
"Before There Was Time" by Caedmon's Call
One of my favorite passages of scripture is Psalm 139. I love the entire chapter, but these verses speak to me in particular:
13 For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
15 My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place,
when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
16 Your eyes saw my unformed body;
all the days ordained for me were written in your book
before one of them came to be.
Psalm 139:13-16
