love

Love, Sweet Love, ACT II

They must have seen something in my eyes.

Why else would the couple I’d been interviewing ask if they could pray for me?

I met many wonderful people through my work as a newspaper reporter, people whose stories changed my life irrevocably. I’d interviewed Bill and Marcheta Lux for their unique love story for a Valentine’s Day issue, but it was the experience of holding their hands as they prayed out loud for me that has never left me.

Bill and Marcheta were both widowed and in their eighties when they met in 2011. As a four-year veteran widow, their story fascinated me. I noted with curiosity the ease in which they talked about their former spouse, how their hands automatically reached out to pat the other’s knee.

According to the couple, the secret to a successful marriage was inside the well-worn book on the end table next to Bill’s chair.

“Every day I asked God what his will was for me,” Bill said as he pulled a folded piece of paper from inside the Bible. “I wasn’t sure about getting married again.”

It was during a Christian radio show he got his answer. Jotting down notes about what to look for in a mate, he realized Marcheta met all the criteria.

“Number one is that the person must be Christian,” Bill read from the paper. “Marchetta trusted the Lord with all her heart. Second, the person must be trustworthy with all things. Number three is honesty. Marcheta is trustworthy and honest. And number four is the desire to be with the person, even when you aren’t being intimate. And I wanted to be with Marcheta all the time.”

Marcheta had smiled indulgently as Bill expounded on her virtues, discretely gesturing to me with a pointed finger that it was him who was so wonderful. As they stood for a picture, Bill slung his arm around the woman he loved, pulling her close.

“I want to be with her for as long as I have left,” he said, his head resting against hers.

My breath caught in my throat, my heart aching for what they had. My hands shook with emotion as my fingers fumbled for the button on the camera. Had my loneliness been so visible to Bill? Because what happened next didn’t make sense for a reporter concluding an interview.

“Can we pray with you?” Bill asked, and his wife nodded.

I put down my camera and held out my hands to take each of theirs. Following their lead, I bowed my head as Bill began praying.

He thanked God for the day and an opportunity to share their story. Tears sprung to my eyes as he continued. “Dear Lord, if it is your will, we ask you to bless Mary with a love story like ours.”

I don’t remember the rest of his prayer, past that heartfelt plea for me.

Bill would share his life with Marcheta for another three years. I heard that she followed him Home that next summer, while I was busy lamenting a loneliness that had heightened with the isolation of the pandemic.

A year later, this Christian couple’s prayer was answered when I got my own love story, one that rivals the newspaper narrative in its intensity and romance. God has been in it from the beginning, and I am in awe of the results. I have more questions than answers in how I’m to proceed in writing or speaking about this second marriage, but I’ve known since I met Nick that God wants me to share our story. Journal entries since our meeting have been prolific and daily prayers for guidance and discernment have resulted in pages of notes, so no doubt the how and when will be revealed. One thing that has been clear to both of us: We want to be with each other for as long as we have left.

dating, faith, grace, love, marriage, prayer, wedding

When God Writes the Love Story

“Can love really happen like that?”

I’d noticed the young girl’s sad demeanor even before I settled into the chair. For a split second, I was irritated, not wanting anything to mar the joy I felt at finding love after nine and a half years of loneliness. I’d asked for a more experienced student at the beauty college. Why did I have to be assigned to one who evidently had some personal issues to deal with when all I wanted was to look good for my wedding?

She’d done well faking through small talk until that moment when her voice lowered with intensity after I announced I was getting married and began telling her about the whirlwind romance, our certainty in our love and the quick engagement that would result in marriage a month and a half after our first meeting.

“Can love really happen like that?” she repeated before adding “Because I thought I was in love for two years and he just broke up with me. It turns out he wasn’t who I thought he was.”

I paused, silently uttering a prayer that God would give me the words she needed to hear.

“Yes, it can happen like that, if God is in it from the beginning. We pray together before each of our dates.”

She was silent as she worked the color through my hair. I wondered if I’d said the wrong thing, bringing up prayer and faith.

“He never prayed with me,” she finally said, so softly it was as if she was talking to herself. Our eyes met in the mirror. “I asked him to, but he wouldn’t,” she continued. “He wouldn’t go to church with me, either. I used to sing in the church choir, loved singing worship songs.”

Loved, as if there were no more worship songs in her life. We both fell silent until she continued.

“I wrote a prayer to my future husband once. I even wrote out a list of what I wanted in the perfect man. I thought I’d found him. But he wasn’t who he pretended to be.”

What were the odds that I’d end up in the chair of a young woman who had done what I had done? I was convinced. I wasn’t there for the haircut and color. I was there for her.

I told her about God asking me to pray for my future husband in the summer of 2018 because the man God had in mind for me was going through something rough. How I’d followed that prompting, transcribing a prayer in my journal so private, I’d covered it up.

I told her how I’d wonder in the ensuing three years if I’d imagined the prompting as I waited for the man God had promised me. That I’d also made a list of all the qualities I wanted in a man. I told her how Nick’s wife died in the spring of 2018. “That summer was one of the hardest times in his life,” I said, choking back tears. Her eyes widened. “He has every quality I asked for: the kind eyes, the broad shoulders, the desire for holding hands and hugging, all the way down to the neatly trimmed goatee beard he’d begun sporting shortly before I met him.”

I went silent as she worked intently on my hair. What else could I say to this wounded girl? I closed my eyes, praying.

“Will you do me a favor?” I opened my eyes and saw her nod in the mirror. “Next time you begin a relationship, will you ask him to pray with you?”

Tears sprung to her eyes as she nodded again.

“And this time, if he says no, run the other way?”

“Do you think I can have a love story like yours?” her voice was husky with longing and unshed tears.

“I know you can. And I want to hear about your love story when it happens.”

“I think God put you in my chair today,” my young friend said.

“I think so too.”

We hugged before I left.

I immediately called Nick when I got into my car.

“How did your hair turn out?” he asked.

“I don’t know, because I don’t think I was there for my hair,” I began crying as I related the encounter. My cries turned into sobs, and I could barely speak past the lump forming in my throat.

“Just think; this is what our life is going to be like together, as long as we put God at the forefront. Random encounters that are not random at all, as we grow in faith together. God brought us together and God can use us together in so many ways.”

On August 23, 2021, three years and one day after the day I wrote down a prayer for the man who would someday be my husband, I married him in the woods I’d found solace in during the pandemic, the land where I grew up that my son now owns.
dating, love

Love in the Time of Corona

I received an e-mail offer from a Christian dating site this week, giving me the unprecedented opportunity to scan through profiles and respond to messages without paying a fee. It makes sense that dating would be a challenge during these self-isolating, social-distancing times, so a website that depends on the dating scene would need to come up with some kind of special to entice potential customers. After all, how exactly would one date during a pandemic? “Hey, I don’t know you and you don’t know me, but let’s meet in a park and stand six feet apart and wear masks and talk really loud so we can hear each other.” 

I’m not sure what I think about dating sites, even Christian ones. On the one hand, I believe that if God plans for me to be with someone, he will bring the right person at the right time. On the other hand, God helps those who help themselves and I know people who have successfully navigated dating sites to meet their spouse. I’m not completely sold on the idea, feeling a bit creepy poring over photos and profiles to find a compatible mate.

With Coronavirus running rampant, however, my concept of an ideal dating situation (getting to know someone through e-mail or letters before ever meeting for coffee) suddenly looks like the best way to protect heart and health. So, yes, I’ll admit it; I took the bait. For one solid hour I perused the website, filtering first by distance (within 100 miles), and age (57-69), and eventually by status (widowed). The filtering system felt a little unfair, as I’m certain God has his own system for bringing someone into our lives, and I don’t like to mess with God’s plans.

I admit to having some fun on the site. I even found myself commenting out loud about some of the profile pictures. “You are way too good looking for your own good, fella.” Swish. (that’s the sound of my finger on the touchscreen, people…) Next.

“Puhleeze… You took your profile picture in a gym wearing a sweaty muscle shirt? Is that supposed to impress me?” Swish. Next.

“Ditto on the profile picture in the fancy sports car you probably borrowed for the photo.” Swish. Next.

“This photo is obviously from the 70’s! What do you look like now?” Swish. Next.

“Um, this one’s so blurry, did you take it in a dark alley?” Swish. Next.

I did learn I do have a type, and am drawn to kind eyes. But I also learned some valuable lessons you guys out there might want to take notes on; what not to do when you create a profile on a Christian dating site. Heed my advice if you want more responses than that swish, next.

#1) If you clearly state in your profile that you have no children, and I can assume then you also have no grandchildren, leave the Elmo toy out of your profile picture. You’re 59 years old, for heaven’s sake. Why do you even have an Elmo toy, and what message are you attempting to convey by cuddling up with it in your profile picture? elmo

#2) Ditch the leprechaun suit. The green tights are not flattering, and frankly, the beard dyed to match is just downright scary.

#3) Ditto on the penguin winter hat. Just no.

#4) Making googly eyes in the bathroom mirror? I’m sorry, you don’t look fun. You look demented.

#5) If, in your description, you lament your inability to find a woman “with morals,” rethink the profile picture choice of you at a theme park standing between two scantily-clad women, your arms thrown around their shoulders.

#6) In a similar vein, if you clearly indicate (sometimes with crude language) that you don’t believe in “waiting until marriage,” we all know what you want, and you might consider a different sort of dating site.

#7) Two words: spell check. I know plenty of intelligent people who aren’t good spellers, but intelligent people do know to use spell check for something important, and your profile description is your first impression. “I bean luking for a gud women for a vere lone time.” I wonder why.

I don’t think I’ll go back to that dating site, though I see in my e-mail I have a message waiting for me.  I’m scared to read it. The guy is 81. And from New Zealand.

But he does have kind eyes.