Our Story: Just a Hint

For the first installment of this long story, see Our Story: Introductions.  Second installment, see Our Story: Rescued.  Third installment, see Our Story: A Long Wait. Fourth installment, see Our Story: First Sight.


Our Story: Just a Hint


On September 10, 2006 (the day before I turned 25), Bethlehem opened a South Campus. I worked for David Livingston, who would be pastoring at the new campus, and he asked me to make the transition with him.

South Campus. Mainly families. Not a lot of single guys (just to be candid). [This was my actual train of thought.]

But, it seemed like a great chance to be a part of something big that God was doing, and I would pretty much go anywhere David Livingston asked (since he's as much a "dad" as a boss), so I said yes.

Those were some crazy days, early on. We hauled two trailers' worth of paraphernalia to Burnsville South High School every Sunday, set up tables, chairs, Info Booth, coffee, and all the worship equipment, and then packed it up again at the end of the morning. I helped set up, sat at the Info Booth, and helped pack up. I remember sprawling on the floor of the 501 Building (our office) with my co-worker Meg, exhausted at the end of some of those Sundays.  

Incidentally, Ben Katterson showed up as a volunteer set-up / tear-down guy, coming early and staying late with the paid fellows. Once our nurseries were up and running both hours, he served in Nursery Blue (and did "Stanley" for the Bible story). Every single week.

____________________________________

One day in the office, Meg very casually mentioned, "You know who you should date?" (A funny question, actually, since I never dated anybody.)

"Um, no. Who?" I asked.

"Ben Katterson," she said.

I thought for a minute. "I think he's got better things to do than date girls."

End of conversation.

____________________________________

January 2007. I was having lunch at the Livingstons' on Sunday afternoon. 

Karin says, "Amy, does Ben Katterson like you?"

Me, flustered. "What? I don't know. He's never said so. Why are you asking that? 

Karin, "Well, he sure hangs out at the Info Booth a lot."

Me, "Everybody hangs out at the Info Booth."

End of conversation. 

However, this time I started paying attention, and oddly enough, Ben Katterson did appear to hang out at the Info Booth a fair bit. 

____________________________________

It started when a friend of mine needed some bookshelves moved and called me to see if I knew of any guys who could help. As it ended up, Ben could help, and another friend. Ben talked with a Russian accent the entire day.

The next week another friend called, because she was moving and wondered if I knew of any guys who could help

Again, Ben was willing. And he suggested that we could use his landlord's (i.e. Pastor Chuck) Suburban and trailer to help with the move.

It was a gray, soggy day, but we had enough help to get my friend Ann moved in pretty quickly. Nevertheless, Ben stayed until everything was settled, and he hooked up her computer. Somewhere in the process, we had an odd little conversation in the elevator, in which I mentioned a fondness for white chocolate. 

____________________________________

It was a couple weeks later, on a snowy day in March. Ben had to drop something off at my apartment. He stood on the front porch, shuffled his feet a little, and shoved a small parcel at me. Then he bounded off, curly blond hair bouncing.

I went inside and slowly closed the door. It was wrapped in white butcher paper, tied with twine, and marked with a black Sharpie in tidy writing: "I saw this at the store ... and thought of you. Ben K"

Inside was a big, saran-wrapped slab of white chocolate.

For some people, gifts from boys ... no biggie. But it felt like something seismic to me. 

And a very curious season began. Praying, waiting, wondering.