When I arrived in Richmond, Virginia in June of 2005 I had already focused all my attention on my upcoming time in South America.  I’d resolved in passing not to be distracted by anything at all—especially something so trivial as girls.  The resolve was in passing only because I was so focused on my new life that I didn’t find it worthwhile or even the slightest bit necessary to resolve firmly.  I met Alisha there, and at first made no effort to get to know her or anyone else for that matter, with the exception of the two guys who would be going to South America with me.  But as weeks passed by a group of people living in such close proximity can’t help but get to know each other to some degree.  I noticed Alisha; I noticed that she stood out at least. 

A year and a half later I searched through my journal entries to see if I’d mentioned her and found a passing reference: “The kind of girl I could marry.”  The truth of the matter is I think I avoided her more than the others for that reason.  She talked about kayaking and I loved kayaking, she would talk of the outdoors or any of our other shared interests and I found myself keeping a little more distance.  And all was well with the world.  I left for South America and she for India.  I’d have been able to forget about her almost entirely if not for the playful reminders coming from those two guys who went with me: “So how about Alisha?  Can you come up with one good reason not to go after her?” 

I soon went to Bolivia and even those reminders ceased.  A little over a year went by and I loved my job most days and was completely wrapped up in it.  I thought often about what life might be like when I got back to the United States but never pictured sharing it with anyone, least of all Alisha.

In February of 2007 all of that changed.  I’d taken a few days of vacation with one of those guys and we’d climbed a mountain together.  When we got back I’d received a short letter from Alisha wishing me a happy birthday.  We’d exchanged a few brief letters over that span of time, some of them handwritten, but none of them much different from letters that I’d written to or received from other friends from around the world.  Perhaps nothing would have come of this if not for the physical exhaustion that left me and my friend lying on our beds unable, or maybe just unwilling, to move.  As we lay there talking, Alisha’s birthday greetings came up, and with it the old question: “So how about Alisha?  Can you come up with one good reason?”  Maybe I was too tired to think of anything, or maybe my old line about her being a finance major just didn’t seem to hold as much weight as it had in the past.  “One good reason.”

I tried not to show any sign of weakness, at least not then, and brushed him aside.  But I started to think about her.  I started to think about her quite a bit, especially as I lay on that bed completely exhausted.  I thought about her on the long bus ride back to base camp.  I thought about her on those wasted days between assignments.  I thought about her so much that one morning I set out a block of several hours to pray about the matter.  In that time I prayed about everything under the sun, except Alisha.  I tried to justify it as “preparing my heart.”  It wasn’t until God prompted me: “Go ahead and ask,” that I finally prayed: “May I pursue your daughter, Sir?”  He said no. 

“May I please pursue your daughter?” 

“No.  But you may pursue me.”

I was delighted.  I felt like in a sense I’d dodged a bullet.  The next several days I sought after God in a way that I’d neglected for some time.  Those were wonderful days, some of my best.  One night, after everyone else had gone to sleep I was staying up late to pray and enjoy quality time with God.  He asked me:

“Are you happy?”

“Yes,” I told him.

“Do you have everything you want?”

I hesitated.  “No, but the only thing left you said I couldn’t pursue.”

“If you want to, you may write to her now.”

I was thrilled and decided that I would go into town first thing the next morning and write an e-mail to Alisha, telling her of my intent.

“You can’t write her an e-mail,” God said.

I was confused.  One second he was telling I could write her and the next forbidding it.  Then I of course realized that such a thing should be hand written, signed, sealed and stamped.  So I started writing the letter.  It took me a few hours, though it wasn’t very long.  I told her how foolish I’d been not to have noticed her before; I told her that I’d realized that I wanted to get to know her, to have the chance to fall in love, because I’d love to be able to spend my life with her.  I couldn’t sleep that night.  The weight of that letter prevented rest. 

In the morning I found myself with the sealed envelope in my hand, wavering as to whether or not to actually mail it.  God had said that I could write her if I wanted, but I hadn’t received a mandate from him that I must write to her.  Maybe I didn’t know what I wanted.  Maybe all of this was a huge mistake and I would be ruining my whole life on a whim.  I was pacing outside our house and had all but decided to tuck the letter away and never mail it, that would be much safer after all, when God asked me: “If I said that you could write to her, why are you so unsure now?  Don’t you trust me with this?”

When the issue became one of trust I knew I didn’t have much choice.  I laid a few coins by the envelope and asked one of the guys to mail the letter when they went into town that day.

Then began the waiting game.  Thirty days have never felt so long.  I was fortunate to be doing a significant amount of traveling through major cities at that point and frequently had access to computers so that I could check to see if she’d replied.  I’d all but given up hope of ever hearing from her, surely the letter had gotten lost in the mail.  I continued to check for a word from her every chance I got, but without hope.  When she finally did respond she’d written:

Danny,
      Well, I don't even really know where to begin.  I have to admit that I was completely surprised by your letter, but very honored that you think so highly of me.  I can't imagine how you've felt the past month waiting for it to reach me in Pune.  I hate to delay a response for very long but I would like to have an opportunity to think and to pray about what you have said. 

      You are right that it would be best if we could actually talk instead of sending letters and e-mails.  Can we set a time to talk on the phone?  What is your schedule next week?  My weekends are generally full.  I could possibly talk Sunday night my time, but Monday or Tuesday might be better.  I am 10.5 hours ahead of Eastern Standard Time.  Let me know if that is possible for you.

Prayerfully,
      Alisha

At the time I was doing something like on the job training with a Peruvian missionary.  He said of Alisha’s response: “That’s good.”

“No it isn’t,” I corrected.  “It would be good if she’d said, ‘Yes I love you.’  When a girl needs time to think about such things it’s never good.”

Finally the time came to make the phone call.  I botched that from the beginning.  The phone card that lasts for 3 ½ hours when calling the United States only lasted 5 minutes and 18 seconds when calling India.  I spent 92 ice cream cones on a string of short lived conversations that added up to about 40 minutes of actual talking.  During which time I managed to work up the nerve to ask Alisha what she felt, but she could only answer by saying that she didn’t know.  I was sure that if I’d ever had a chance it was long gone.  Nevertheless, she said that I could call her in two days if I was still in a place where I could communicate.  Fortunately I was.  And, with the help of a Peruvian friend, found a much more effective way to communicate.  In two days we talked for three hours uninterrupted.

I finally received Danny’s letter the last week of March.  He had sent a postcard, picture and CD about life in Peru before so I didn’t think very much about it until I opened it and began to read.  All my roommates were sitting in the living room and saw the expression on my face change immediately.  Hearing their inquiries I began to read the letter aloud.  By the time I finished they were practically jumping up and down with joy and very enthusiastic about such a sweet and romantic letter.  I, on the other hand, felt sick and just wanted to be alone to think.  One roommate said that I should send Danny an e-mail right away so that he would at least know that the letter had arrived.  I did so but was still not sure of what to say at that point.

I went to my room and eventually ended up sitting in my bathroom floor praying (because that was the place where I could find solitude, though I was still feeling pretty sick at this point and felt as though I might throw up).  That time ended when my roommates called me to dinner.  I still had no answers…and no appetite.  Dinner was grueling because they all had opinions and questions and endless teasing.  I couldn’t wait to get away.  Honestly, had Danny written much earlier the answer would have been easy: No.  I was focused on the work in India and very satisfied being single.  In fact, I loved being single because I had the opportunity to do all sorts of things that a married woman would have less time to do.  But, after spending some time in Europe in January, I felt that God was beginning to do something new in my heart and prepare me for a new phase in life.  Even my roommates had noticed this and that only made them more overjoyed by Danny’s letter.  I had left the matter in God’s hands since at that time I didn’t know and wasn’t interested in anyone.  I certainly wasn’t thinking of any of the single guys from our time of training in Virginia.  That was ancient history and they had probably all moved on and found girlfriends by this time anyway.

I remember asking God in 2003 if He could keep me from being distracted by anyone who wasn’t His best for me and in His perfect timing to bring together all the details of a future spouse if that was indeed His plan.  I also remember thinking that I wouldn’t be interested in anyone who hinted around at what his intentions were.  Any guy worth my attention should be clear in stating his intent.  Danny certainly had met that “qualification,” though quite unexpectedly.  Perhaps that was in part why I was so hesitant in responding.  I began praying and asked my parents and other close friends to join with me in prayer as I sincerely sought the Lord’s direction.

The answer came for me after our fourth conversation.  It wasn’t a particularly significant or in-depth conversation, just time getting to know one another better.  But, after we talked I brushed my teeth and got ready for bed.  As I was sitting in bed reading that night, God asked (quite out of the blue) what qualities I was looking for in a husband.  I had never made a list so I began to think about it.  As I thought about what might be included on such a list I began to realize that Danny met all of those standards and exceeded many.  God reminded me of the prayers that I had written for our fellow Journeyman before leaving for the field.  I pulled out the one for Danny and sensed God confirming even more strongly that this was His plan.  I was surprised, though delighted.  I wasn’t sure how all the specifics would work out at that point but I knew that if He had brought us each this far He wouldn’t quit now.  Months later, while Danny was in Georgia visiting my parents, I began to question my sanity and wondered if God had really spoken so clearly or if by some small chance I had just made it all up.  When I asked Him about it, He very clearly said: “I have already given you the answer.  You do not need to be anxious.”

After our first few conversations I began to look forward to days when I would pass through a city and be able to talk with Alisha.  I was glad that my current job allowed me to do so more than a normal assignment would.  Alisha never gave me an answer as to how she felt, but after several conversations I felt safe assuming that we were both moving in the same direction.  We talked for hours about everything under the sun.  She usually stayed up late into the night because of the time difference.  When she had eye surgery I took a day of vacation to stay in a place where I could read to her.  The closeness was very real, though in some ways it felt artificial due to the fact that we couldn’t see each other face to face.  “Some things are worth waiting to say in person,” I had told her.  And somehow I managed to refrain from letting slip anything I’d deemed too important for phone lines.

I got back to the United States a month before she did and drove to Georgia to meet her parents.  I thought that surely everyone would know why; there aren’t a lot of things that can motivate a guy to drive half way across a continent to meet a girl’s mom and dad.  I’d already written her roommates who had sneakily gotten me her ring size and photographs of other jewelry so that I could get an idea of her taste. 

Alisha got back in late July, and a few days after her arrival I drove out to Georgia again, this time with a ring and the intention to propose.

Waiting for Danny to get to Georgia was a challenge.  I was so glad to see my family and was enjoying time with them but I also had been counting down the days until Danny would arrive.  My mom says that she knew from the first day she saw me that Danny was the guy I would marry.  She says that she knew mostly from the way I talked about him and from what I didn’t say more than anything else.  I thought it was because I couldn’t eat.  I think it might have been the most glorious miserable time of my life thus far.

Anyway, Danny finally arrived, exhausted from his drive, but glad, as I was, that we were finally face-to-face after countless hours of conversations over the phone and thousands of miles of separation.  We had waited a long time to say “I love you” and those were Danny’s first words as soon as he opened the car door.  Delighted I responded that I loved him too and was thankful that we had patiently waited to say so in person.  Still, it was awkward in the beginning.  At moments, I felt like I was at the junior high dance.

It was early evening by the time Danny reached Georgia but he had packed a wonderful picnic complete even with sunflowers for a centerpiece.  It was quite impressive.  As we drove up to a lake in the mountains to enjoy the picnic, we spoke little, just enjoying the fact that we were sitting together and didn’t need to talk anymore.  I was pleasantly surprised at how naturally the silence came.

When we reached the park we found a quiet place by the lake and spread the picnic cloth.  Our conversations had not been awkward while on the phone but suddenly I had no idea what to say to Danny, though I had a lot that I had been waiting to share in person.  The words just weren’t there and we were still sitting on opposite sides of the picnic blanket!  

We chatted a little about small things and eventually moved into more significant conversation.  Danny started to tell me more of his side of the story and talked some about his time with my family.  He began to tell me about how he and my dad had discussed Solomon’s life, a man who had everything and yet still found it all meaningless.  This led into him expressing how meaningful our relationship had become to him.  Though I shared his sentiment, I was sitting there thinking, “Is this really going where I think it’s going?”  It was.  Danny’s next words were, “it would be an honor for me to be your husband…(very long pause)…I guess what I’m trying to say is, will you marry me?”  Surprised but overjoyed I responded affirmatively and Danny slipped a beautiful ring on my finger.  We shared communion and a time of prayer together and had our first kiss.  By then it was getting late and it was an hours drive back to my parents house so we packed up the picnic and headed back down the mountain. 

I still had a million questions and of course sleep little in the excitement of that night.  Most of all I think I began to realize even more fully how much I need to learn and how much I need to grow to be the woman and wife that God has created me to be.  Even now, I’m still seeing that truth more and more.  My prayer is that it will continue to deepen my dependence upon Christ who is our foundation, our strength, our life, our constant and our love.  What an incredible love and life He has given us and shaped us for already.  We are so blessed.

Proposing to Alisha on our first date was very difficult.  I’d spent about 13 hours on the road in silence, but it still hadn’t fully prepared me for that evening.  I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the woman I was going to Georgia to meet was the woman I wanted to marry.  But that deeper knowing had preempted the in-love experience.  We’d gone about things a little differently and when I first saw her I realized that it would take time for me to fully realize that the woman in front of me was the same one I’d known and fallen in love with.  As we ate our picnic dinner I kept waiting for that realization to catch up with me. 

I noticed the sun setting, and knew that I was running out of time.  I knew I had to propose that day.  I didn’t want to wait because I wanted her to know that I’d known from before the time I saw her, that it was solely contingent on her character, and that she’d conveyed that to me before our meeting.  I didn’t want her to wait one day longer to know exactly how I felt about her.  So I fumbled a bit and managed to get the ring in my closed right hand.  I’d thought about what I wanted to say all day, and had cut it down from a long flowing paragraph to just a sentence or two when I realized that I’d be lucky to get that much out when I was actually with her.  What she remembers I know I didn’t practice—I think it was my rambling in an effort to get up the nerve to say what I’d intended to say.  There’s some debate as to whether I dropped the ring—I at least have no memory of it.  I do remember hoping that it would fit on her finger, and my relief when it was finally on her finger.

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