The Meeting and The Long Summer
Ben Gives a Call
Two months passed. A painful scramble of no news and hints of interest that kept me on pins and needles.
It was toward the end of May when the phone call came, a voicemail actually.
Would you be free to talk, maybe sometime tomorrow?
Well, sure. (Incidentally, I found that my dad had gotten a phone call a few days earlier himself.)
So, on a Thursday evening before Memorial Day, Ben came to the door, and we walked down a block and over a block to Dunn Bros. I got a decaf white chocolate mocha, which Ben paid for. It sat there mostly undrunk, cooling while we talked.
Ben fiddled with his glass, leaned forward, and said, "You probably already know this, but I'm very attracted to you. I've been talking to David Livingston, so all my wisdom is coming from him. First and foremost, I want this to be based on Jesus Christ. And I'd like to get you know you more."
The conclusion of the conversation: We were officially "friends getting to know one another." And when we got back to the house, he gave me a bouquet of little white flowers.
So began a rather tumultuous and emotionally turbulent summer, for me.
My whole family was actually coming to town a few days after that fateful meeting, so after the Saturday night worship service, Ben drove me in his little black Geo to Baker's Square to meet them all at dinner.
I was pretty giddy and happy there, finally to have some explicit confirmation of interest. But then the other side of me spoke loudly about the impracticality of it all ... It could never work. We are too different.
One evening a few weeks later, four other couples and Ben and I had dinner at the South office. We played round robin ping-pong and hit around a volleyball outside in the rain. Ben was goofy, and I felt conspicuous amongst the other "confirmed couples." The next few days were full of analyzing. I felt like we were from two different worlds--his exotic and far away and full of change and adventure ... and mine stable, focused, disciplined, secure. I felt very far away from him and a little scared at the way forward.
Weeks went by, and I continued conflicted.
We would see each other periodically. Sometimes Ben would seek me out, and I would feel a mixture of excitement and dread. Sometimes we would miss each other, and I would feel agitated and uncertain.
I found myself in the church kitchen one day that summer, mixing up brownie mixes for a big event. The solitude was so calming, and I prayed for God to lay bare my heart, to show me what the motives were behind all this turmoil.
Was it pride, thinking I was better than Ben? Was it fear that I would be thrown from everything known and familiar? Was it legitimate lack of connection? Was it avoiding conflict and not wanting to disappoint him or others?
The sense came to me that I was projecting beyond where today was--trying to find feeling in myself beyond our status, trying to peer into the future and see what would happen in 10 years, if I would be married to a stranger in a strange place. I wasn't waiting for the Lord to unfold His will moment by moment, quiet in His hands, receiving just what He was pleased to give.
I read a little piece from the Word, and a peace fell. I could rest right here, right where we were... officially, friends intentionally getting to know one another. Not more, but not less.
It wasn't the end of the questions, but it steadied my heart through a few more weeks of wrestling.
What an insightful description of the emotional turbulence at this stage of a relationship... and the peace that comes from "receiving just what He was pleased to give". Thank you for that.
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