Boy Meets Girl

Two years from yesterday, I was not happy. I did not like my life. I did not like the path I was on. My waking hours were filled with distractions just to make it until I could sleep again. For years this was my life, and I saw no end to this cycle. My parents probably thought they had lost me in a way. And I know they would not be surprised to learn just how close they were to losing me for real.

I rarely left the house. And I never went anywhere by myself. As far as I ever got was the mailbox, where I went and got the mail almost every single day. For years it had been the family joke that I would never meet a woman unless it was on the way to the mailbox. Honestly... I hated that joke. But I have a different view of it now, and the new joke is that I didn’t even have to go that far.

Two years ago today, Sunday, July 29th, 2007, I was sitting in the kitchen when my dad told me there were two beautiful young ladies at the door to see me. “Right,” I thought, “very funny.” To my surprise, there was at least one beautiful young lady there to see me (no offense to the Carolyn.) She had jet-black hair with streaks of red, white, and blue; no make-up; and a heavily worn t-shirt. She was enchanting.

I stood on the stairs just above them. Carolyn handed me a piece of paper, and started talking. I nodded along while staring at the paper. Ladies and gentlemen, I could not tell you what Carolyn was saying, or what was written on that piece of paper - because I was not listening, nor was I reading. I was sweating, probably blushing, feeling my heart pound, reminding myself to breathe, and thinking, “who is that girl?”

When Carolyn finished, the mystery girl told me her name, which I immediately forgot. (I’m terrible with names.) She then said where she lived, and that she spent a lot of time on the front porch reading, and sometimes took walks around the neighborhood. I made sure to remember all of that information.

The next day, I went outside to “play basketball” in the backyard. What I was really doing was trying to build up the courage to “take a walk” around the block... where she happened to live. In the meantime, I kept peeking around the corner of my parents’ house, hoping that maybe she was going for a walk herself. After at least two hours, I chickened out, and went back inside.

Soon after, the doorbell rang. I didn’t answer the door. I never answered the door. Not unless I knew exactly who it was. It rang again, and in my head I begged for whoever it was to go away. I watched out the window and waited to see who had been disturbing my peace, and there she was. The mystery girl came back and rang my doorbell. But I couldn’t go out and let her know I had been there the whole time. Thankfully, she came back again, I eventually learned her name, and the rest is a much longer story.

It seems fitting to be spending this anniversary in Disneyland, which is where we should be as you are reading this. (As I am writing, we have not left yet, but I’ve scheduled this to post on our anniversary. I hope it works.)

As I said in my last post, this Disneyland trip is the first time I get to combine one joyous thing from my old life, with the most joyous thing from my new one: Disneyland with my family, and with my wife. I love my wife. I love my family. And I love my Heavenly Father for hand-picking the perfect girl for me, and placing her at my doorstep. To deny it was a miracle would be the same as denying the existence of the sun.