Eleven years ago, on March 13 I sat in the gym of a church listening to Dr. Louis Brighton of Concordia Seminary lecture about Revelation. I’d taken his course the year before, and during his introductory remarks I looked around the room.
The folding tables were arranged in long rows perpendicular to the stage and the podium. Further down my row, on the opposite side of the table sat this woman. I had a hard time taking my eyes off her: short blonde hair, incredible cheekbones, eyes bluer and bigger than I had ever seen. She was wearing a white blouse and tan pants and had a Bible open in front of her. She didn’t see me, but was intent on taking notes, underlining passages here and there in the first chapters of Revelation.
After the first break, I decided that I had to sit a little closer to her. I gathered my things and walked in her direction. I couldn’t quite decide if I would only sit a little closer or move right across from her where there was another empty seat. Why mess around? I took the seat across from her and introduced myself and flirted with her the rest of the day.
This year we will be married for ten years.
For our “Happy to Meet You Day” anniversary, my bride gave me a case of Mexican Coca-Cola, made from real sugar, not corn syrup.
She’s still the one.