Editors Note: This is the third part of a series discussing how I came to be married. The first part is here.
If I am going to share how my wife and I became one then I need to explain the events leading up to our union. I could go on in many directions so I need some guiding principles to keep me on track. Those principles will be these: 1) Seek to edify the body of Christ, 2) Not to slander anyone from my past, present, or future, and 3) write what is applicable. So no need to talk about different people and how they influenced certain thoughts and decisions I’ve made, nor past relationships that may or may not have been sinful.
So let’s begin.
This is where I start
So a year before I did something terrible, which brought my wife and I together, I didn’t even consider her an option. In fact, I didn’t consider anyone really an option. Nor did I think I was an option to anyone. I had quit my job and was staying at home to work for my mom as a farm help. Meaning I was broke, with no job, and no direction.
A year with no job trying to help my mom so that she could work more and not be so overwhelmed. She had(and still has) tons of animals to take care of, as well as she had to drop of my brothers to school and take care of most of the things around the house. I had felt like I was being selfish by working and going to church, neglecting the woman that I needed to honor in my life. So I quit my job and helped my mom, which my mom was super grateful for.
I was going to a church which preached a Jesus that helped fix mistakes, not sins. A Jesus that has a plan for you, not the Jesus of the New Testament that died for the glory of his Father and for the adorning of his bride. I had been questioning for two years everything that was going on within this church. This made me suspect everything we we’re doing.
I had a group of friends that I wanted to hang out with. They were young and eager to evangelize. They had begun, of their own accord, going out to down town and evangelizing. When I heard about this, I became curious to see what they were really doing (wondering if the gospel was even being preached), and so I went down with them.
This was the day I first spoke to my wife. I was going to go with my friends so I drove to one of their houses. I soon discovered that it was not only my three friends who were evangelizing, but it was also this girl. I had seen her occasionally at church. She was on stage once in a while singing some of the worship songs. I had known of her from every once in a while my close group of friends bringing up her name and telling me to pray for her because she had health problems and at one point was waiting for God to provide her with a job.
She introduces herself as Christie. This was that girl I’ve prayed for a few times randomly the past two years. I saw her on stage but didn’t know her name. This day I met her isn’t all that important but to say this: at the end of the day I concluded that there was no way I could like this girl.
I had offered to help her with a neck pain she had by massaging it, explaining that I was a massage therapist and I believe it was simply a tight muscle. Now, I must admit, this sounds rather like a smooth thing for a guy to pull, but I wasn’t that kind of guy. I genuinely was just offering what I did for work to a fellow believer because she had chronic headaches and it hadn’t gone away. Knowing that she wanted to evangelize, I myself wasn’t going to evangelize, I wanted to watch, listen, learn, and observe. But, if I could pray and help in the background I would. If that meant helping with neck and head pain I would.
She didn’t simply refuse. She said it in such a way that put me on the defensive. She said something like, “I don’t let guys touch me.” In this one moment, this one statement, she lumped me with all the other guys in the world, insinuated that I had ulterior motives, and rejected my profession. I pressed only once, assuring her that I have a license in massage therapy, and that I could help her with her pain. She flat refused, and repeated what she said, adding, “I protect my brothers hearts.”
She had, in twenty seconds, rejected my help, my profession, called me another sleaze ball guy, insinuated that I had ulterior motives, and basically said that I probably don’t protect my heart. Which was something Proverbs talks about.
It was enough for me. I didn’t like her and I didn’t even know if I could talk to someone with such pride. Of course, truly what was going on was I misunderstood her protection of herself with attacking me.
Truly, she said it in a rude and offensive way, she was known for being “blunt,” which is another way of saying she was known for not saying this with a good attitude and using her words to edify, but she also had hit some of my sin. She hit my pride. I prided myself on my control of my emotions, feelings.
I don’t remember too much else about that day, or the follow week when I went again, but what stuck in my mind and heart was: this is not a girl that’s marriage material.