St. Patrick’s Day Love Story

It was March 17, 1991.  I was 20 years old (just), and on spring break from Abilene Christian University, at my dad’s house in Phoenix.  I hadn’t wanted to go to Phoenix; I didn’t have any friends there.  I had wanted to go to my sister’s so I could see my old high school friends, but it didn’t work out.  I don’t remember why.  In any case, I wasn’t particularly happy to be there.

March 17 was a Sunday, and on our way to church, my stepmom said “There’s a new family at church with a cute son about your age!”.  I knew what she was getting at, and rolled my eyes.  First of all, I didn’t think I would have much interest in a boy she considered “cute”, and second of all, I knew he wouldn’t have any interest in me.  Guys never did.

The new family came in after us, and sat in the row behind us.  I didn’t realize it at the time.  After the service, Stanna (my stepmom) introduced us.  He was tall and thin, and hmmm, kind of cute.  He shook my hand.

Later in the week, Stanna had the teens/young adults over to the house.  There were only about 10 of us that fit into that category; the congregation was made up mostly of retired people.  He was there but had to leave early for his nightshift job.  He seemed nice, but shy.  We didn’t really talk beyond what was necessary to play the games Stanna had planned, but there was something there.  I was…interested!

I went back to school with two impossibly long months stretching ahead of me.  I had never planned to go to Phoenix for the summer, but now my plans had changed.  Because even though he hadn’t said anything, even though I’d only had three short-term, non-serious boyfriends ever, even though guys never gave me a second glance, I knew, as if we had prearranged it, that we would be together that summer.

In May, back at my dad’s, I waited for the phone to ring.  We saw each other at church, made small talk in between class and service, and I waited.  My brother knew, and arranged it so I had to sit next to the guy.  My stepsister knew, and asked his sister if he had a girlfriend (no).  A bolder, more confident girl might have made the phone call herself, but I waited almost two very long weeks.  I lost five pounds, waiting.

Then the phone rang, and I knew it was him (no caller ID back then, either!).  He asked, and we went out.  It was kind of awkward; neither one of us was good at making conversation.  Later that evening I called and told him I’d had a good time.  It was a perfect summer.  We were together, and I knew.  I knew this was it.

He told me later that the first Sunday, when they sat behind us, he noticed my eyelashes (funny, because now my sister says that all I have to do is bat my eyelashes at him and he does my bidding!).  He also told me that he thought I would home for two weeks that spring break, and was disappointed on the second Sunday when he found I had already gone back to school.  He was thinking of asking me out!

Craig and I got married the following summer, in July 1992.  He is an amazing husband:  patient, selfless, loving, Godly, hardworking.  He is a fabulous father and our children adore him.  And, in case you were wondering, he’s not shy at all anymore and does a lot of public speaking!  He’s the perfect complement to my introverted, impatient self.  He encourages me when I need a push, and tempers me when I get worked up.

And it all started March 17, 1991, twenty years ago today!

 

{I usually get Craig a St. Patrick’s Day card to celebrate the day we met, which is the only St. Pat’s day celebrating we do.  Usually they’re just kind of silly, but I couldn’t believe the absolutely perfect card I found this year!  Except that I don’t think luck had anything to do with it; I believe it was God’s plan from the beginning!}