Welcome to those of you visiting from the Proverbs 31 Devotion today. I promised to tell you the story of how I met my husband... so here goes.
It was a blistering hot, July afternoon. I tried to concentrate on my work to no avail. My mind was in places far more romantic than the promotional graphics proposals I was supposed to be working on. I had a date that night that was surely going to change my life forever.
I had been going out with the same guy during most of college. After graduation, everything fell into place for me to do like we'd planned. I moved to a city near his school, got a job, and worked on saving money for our future.
Life couldn't have been better. On paper he was everything a young girl dreams of. He was handsome, the star of the football team in college, and headed to medical school. We had our future all figured out.
The minute the clock hit six p.m. I dashed out to my car. It was my birthday. And based on how nervous Chris had been in the days prior to coming into town to take me out for a special dinner, I was convinced he was going to ask me to marry him. I rushed home to get ready stopping only briefly for camera film. After all, I would be taking lots of pictures tonight!
The dinner was perfect but I could hardly eat. I kept staring at my empty ring finger wishing he'd hurry up. While I heard everything he was talking about regarding medical school and papers that were due, my mind was designing my wedding gown and wondering what font we might use on the invitations.
Suddenly, there was an abrupt break in conversation. Chris looked down and then back at me with a strange look on his face. This is it! This is it! I was mentally sending him the message to get down on one knee when my whole world stopped.
"Lysa, I've met someone else."
The rest of that night was a complete blur. One where I went through the motions of existence but without any kind of grasp on what had just happened to me. I said the right things and stuffed my emotions until he drove away from my apartment and left me alone with my heartbreak. I wanted to die.
I never knew a heart could feel shattered into a million pieces but still beat enough to keep you alive.
Surely Chris would wake up and realize what a horrible mistake he'd made. Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. Eventually, my eyes ran out of tears and I realized life without Chris would be my reality.
During the work week, I would do okay appearing normal and keeping up with business as usual. But on the weekends, I would retreat to my bed and will the world to go away.
One Sunday morning my room mate appeared in the doorway of my room holding a two page ad for a a very large church just down the street from us.
She urged me to get up and go. "This church is so big, I know you could meet some friends there. And you really need to meet some friends."
After much nudging and her practically pulling me out of my bed, I went. And she was right. Though I wasn't really the church type at that point in my life, I did meet some very nice people. Two of those people wound up becoming my best friends. A girl named Suzy. A guy named Dean.
Eventually, I even started dating again. But every time I went on a date, Dean was hyper-critical. He found some fundamental flaw in every guy I ever dated. Though I pretended to get aggravated with his sizing up of the guys I went out with, secretly I loved it. He was like the big brother I never had.
Then one day, Dean called me with a startling announcement. "Lysa, I played golf today with the man you are going to marry. He'll be at church on Wednesday night and I want to introduce you to him."
After rolling my eyes and imagining the worst, I set about the task of picking out my best outfit. Just in case.
I still remember exactly what Art was wearing the first time I saw him. Nothing said hot in those days more than Levis and a hunter green polo shirt. I can't think of any less cheesy way to say this... it was love at first sight. For me at least. And I think for him too.
But, it took him a while to ask me out.
Meanwhile, Chris started calling again.
He said all the things I'd been longing to hear for months. He loved me. He wanted to marry me. He was sorry. He'd been confused and scared. He wanted me back. He wanted us back.
Though Art had not asked me out, and I had no promise of anything with him, I knew there was a difference in him that I'd never have with Chris. Art loved the Lord. Chris did not.
I was not a strong Christian at this point in my life at all. But, something deep in my soul was pulling me away from Chris. Though I wanted all that he promised, it was wrong and I knew it.
I told Chris no. Not now. Not ever.
And then a few weeks later, Art, who owned a franchise of my favorite chicken restaurant, offered to make me a Chick-fil-A sandwich on a Sunday afternoon.
No one eats Chick-fil-A on Sundays. It is one of the only national chains that closes on Sundays in honor of the Sabbath.
I felt like the most special girl in the world. And right in the midst of that white meat fillet of chicken served on a toasted bun with two pickles, I fell in love.
And I've been eating free Chick-fil-A ever sense! Oh yes, and loving that man named Art as well.
It was a blistering hot, July afternoon. I tried to concentrate on my work to no avail. My mind was in places far more romantic than the promotional graphics proposals I was supposed to be working on. I had a date that night that was surely going to change my life forever.
I had been going out with the same guy during most of college. After graduation, everything fell into place for me to do like we'd planned. I moved to a city near his school, got a job, and worked on saving money for our future.
Life couldn't have been better. On paper he was everything a young girl dreams of. He was handsome, the star of the football team in college, and headed to medical school. We had our future all figured out.
The minute the clock hit six p.m. I dashed out to my car. It was my birthday. And based on how nervous Chris had been in the days prior to coming into town to take me out for a special dinner, I was convinced he was going to ask me to marry him. I rushed home to get ready stopping only briefly for camera film. After all, I would be taking lots of pictures tonight!
The dinner was perfect but I could hardly eat. I kept staring at my empty ring finger wishing he'd hurry up. While I heard everything he was talking about regarding medical school and papers that were due, my mind was designing my wedding gown and wondering what font we might use on the invitations.
Suddenly, there was an abrupt break in conversation. Chris looked down and then back at me with a strange look on his face. This is it! This is it! I was mentally sending him the message to get down on one knee when my whole world stopped.
"Lysa, I've met someone else."
The rest of that night was a complete blur. One where I went through the motions of existence but without any kind of grasp on what had just happened to me. I said the right things and stuffed my emotions until he drove away from my apartment and left me alone with my heartbreak. I wanted to die.
I never knew a heart could feel shattered into a million pieces but still beat enough to keep you alive.
Surely Chris would wake up and realize what a horrible mistake he'd made. Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. Eventually, my eyes ran out of tears and I realized life without Chris would be my reality.
During the work week, I would do okay appearing normal and keeping up with business as usual. But on the weekends, I would retreat to my bed and will the world to go away.
One Sunday morning my room mate appeared in the doorway of my room holding a two page ad for a a very large church just down the street from us.
She urged me to get up and go. "This church is so big, I know you could meet some friends there. And you really need to meet some friends."
After much nudging and her practically pulling me out of my bed, I went. And she was right. Though I wasn't really the church type at that point in my life, I did meet some very nice people. Two of those people wound up becoming my best friends. A girl named Suzy. A guy named Dean.
Eventually, I even started dating again. But every time I went on a date, Dean was hyper-critical. He found some fundamental flaw in every guy I ever dated. Though I pretended to get aggravated with his sizing up of the guys I went out with, secretly I loved it. He was like the big brother I never had.
Then one day, Dean called me with a startling announcement. "Lysa, I played golf today with the man you are going to marry. He'll be at church on Wednesday night and I want to introduce you to him."
After rolling my eyes and imagining the worst, I set about the task of picking out my best outfit. Just in case.
I still remember exactly what Art was wearing the first time I saw him. Nothing said hot in those days more than Levis and a hunter green polo shirt. I can't think of any less cheesy way to say this... it was love at first sight. For me at least. And I think for him too.
But, it took him a while to ask me out.
Meanwhile, Chris started calling again.
He said all the things I'd been longing to hear for months. He loved me. He wanted to marry me. He was sorry. He'd been confused and scared. He wanted me back. He wanted us back.
Though Art had not asked me out, and I had no promise of anything with him, I knew there was a difference in him that I'd never have with Chris. Art loved the Lord. Chris did not.
I was not a strong Christian at this point in my life at all. But, something deep in my soul was pulling me away from Chris. Though I wanted all that he promised, it was wrong and I knew it.
I told Chris no. Not now. Not ever.
And then a few weeks later, Art, who owned a franchise of my favorite chicken restaurant, offered to make me a Chick-fil-A sandwich on a Sunday afternoon.
No one eats Chick-fil-A on Sundays. It is one of the only national chains that closes on Sundays in honor of the Sabbath.
I felt like the most special girl in the world. And right in the midst of that white meat fillet of chicken served on a toasted bun with two pickles, I fell in love.
And I've been eating free Chick-fil-A ever sense! Oh yes, and loving that man named Art as well.
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