this time 3 years ago…

October 25th holds a special place in my heart.  On this day in ‘08, I went to a party.  I met some friends and had a few drinks.  I was in the Heights in Houston, and it was just a simple house party, where I laughed with a friend of mine that being at a house party was like being back in college.  Only we weren’t in college anymore, we were “young professionals” working in Houston and living for the weekends. 

And on that day, I got a text from a guy named Oatmeal (not really), who was firming up our plans for the following day.  I’d been talking to this guy for about a week and a half, mainly via online messaging and a few times on the phone, and I liked that he had actually asked me out on a “date.”  As in, he used the word “date” without shuffling around it or using the phrase “hang out” or anything lame like that.  Then he asked if he could pick me up, despite living an hour away.  Then, he told me the purpose of the date, which was “to get a bite to eat and visit.” Not “talk” but “visit.”  For some reason I liked that term.

I liked this guy.  So far.  He was really funny in his written messages.  He had a really cute Southern voice on the phone.  I could tell he was really smart. 

But, I’d never actually met him.

And, I had just one blurry picture to go on.  Here it is:

Cute, or too blurry to tell?  And is that a jacket, or a paper bag with pockets?

And is that guy behind him a friend of his?   Yeah, as you can see, I didn’t have a whole lot to go on. 

So, the night before our blind date, I went to a house party.  I played beer pong.  I loved the feeling of showing up to a party dateless and talking to whoever I wanted to talk to.  I was in a really good place, I was single, and I was pretty happy with how things were going. 

Hey, look, I even have a picture of myself at the party!  Playing beer bong, no less!

While I liked the idea of this blind date with Oatmeal, and I did expect it to be a good experience, I wasn’t really reading into it.  I’ll admit, I was more intrigued by the idea that I was going on a blind date than anything else.  My friends were all excited and anticipating the outcome.  It was a fun feeling to have things feel so up in the air.  I knew that a lot of girls my age, no matter how badly they wanted to meet a guy, would never have the guts to go on a 1-on-1 blind date with a guy.  They’d get their friend to go with them or something like that to relieve the pressure if it didn’t go well.  Not me, I was brave! If it was a horrible mistake, I’d just have to suffer through it.  I’d remember every detail so that I could share the horror story with my friends over glasses of wine the next night.  I felt daring.  It was exciting.

I stayed up way too late, and the next morning my phone went off around 7ish.  Oatmeal was a much earlier riser than me, and he occasionally texted me before I woke up, but hours after he had risen.  I sent him a text back informing him that I was still sleeping and I assume we both chuckled. 

12 hours later, I was staring at my phone, mentally willing it to vibrate.  Our date was over, and all I could think of in the entire world was how badly I wanted to talk to him again. 

On the 25th of October, I had no idea how much things were about to change.  I had no idea that God was sitting up there in heaven, smiling because He knew he had just answered my most repetitive prayer, and He got a kick out of it because I had no clue it was coming. 

On the 26th of October, I prayed to God… “God, I think I know what’s happening here.  PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE don’t let me be wrong.  I mean… I’ll understand, I know You are taking care of me, but PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE let this guy be my guy.  If You’ll do this for me, I’ll never ask for anything again.  Okay that’s not true God, I’m sorry I said that.  Just please God, please let this be my husband, and if he is NOT my husband, God I’m really going to need some serious help getting over him because I really think it’s already too late.”

Yep, I bet it’s a lot of fun being God sometimes.  It has to be a really darn good feeling to literally answer someone’s most urgent, repetitive, meaningful prayer.

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