3 days

The sun streams in, bright and overwhelming in my front living room.  I’ve sipped countless morning mochas here. The furniture has changed but the view remains the same: the neighbors’ immaculate lawns, Gus the golden doodle resting on his driveway. The morning neighborhood traffic of a couple daycares and a few dozen homes. That one Tesla and the all junkers on their way to the last few days of high school. 

Twenty twenty one has been a whirlwind. From first quarantine date on the last day of 2020 to quick engagement a month later, selling his townhome and then gradually combining households and completing one big renovation project and a handful of minor updates, daily Amazon packages, furniture shopping and photo shoots, vaccines, illnesses, tears but more laughter, spending time with each other’s family and friends, rides on motorcycle and mustang depending on the weather, countless donations trips to goodwill, celebrating milestones, walks in his new town and my childhood one, both of us losing clients and gaining new ones, creating spreadsheets, financial plans and budgets, numerous meals out, purging his parents home of 48 years, medical scares on both sides of the family that resolved quickly, watching the world warm and open. 

We’ve crammed a lot of life together in a few short months. I’ve been surprised at how easy it’s been. Except for a couple days we’ve spent 8+ hours a day together since we met. 

Spring is now in full swing, gardens and flower pots planted and summer plans scheduled. 

I’m getting married in 3 days. Again. Already. 

We’re ready. 

He and I never thought we’d get married a second time to different people, that wasn’t in the plan or part of the dream. But life takes unexpected turns and even God promises trouble to those who love him. 

We talked the other day about if knowing a beautiful future was ahead would have lessened the pain of loss. Probably not we decided. Loss requires grieving no matter the promises of a God who overcomes the world and makes all things work together for good. 

Trusting the goodness of a good God in the midst of pain, however, does give one true hope and saves us from being swallowed up completely by the dark pit of self pity and anger. We each responded differently to loss. We each asked our whys. And yet we’ve landed here together in this place of joy and hope and a future. We are dreaming new dreams. The question isn’t why but Who. No matter the circumstances God is either good or He is good. 

The sun streams in, bright and overwhelming on our new beginning. I sip my mocha, savoring the foam and the sun on my face. Just a few more days. We are giddy and impatient, and so very thankful. Weeping endured for a night. But joy came. Morning dawned. 

And we will sing of the goodness of God. 

Unexpected : A Love Story

I glance down at my left hand, noticing the familiar feeling of my ring finger encircled once again. I’m not sure when I’ll stop being caught off guard by the glitter and glamour of new love. 

I didn’t expect this at all. My plan was slow and steady and defined, cautious and safe. 

I didn’t know relationships don’t always take years of work to reach understanding and decades to develop depth. 

In December I had resigned myself to online dating and decided to give it a year. I’d get to know a bunch of people, go on lots of fun dates and figure out what I wanted. 

But I already knew what I wanted: a best friend and partner in life. Some of what I had and some of what I had always wanted. I thought about my own personal convictions and beliefs about biblical divorce, my minimal dating history and felt the type of person I wanted and needed would be a unicorn. Rare and impossible to find. Non-existent. 

I texted my friend how impossible this seemed. Her response: “With God, nothing is impossible.” 

I had spent the year preparing myself and my life to be ready for the kind of person I wanted and deserved. I didn’t know how long I’d be single, and I felt an urgency to do “my work” quickly. I met with my counselor. I surrounded myself with solid Christian women  who would encourage and call me out when needed. I tried new things. I worked hard to pay off debt, take care of my house, diversify income sources. I rested. I studied. I grieved my losses. I prayed.  

I dreamed about my future. 

I gave God lots of ideas of how he could fulfill my dreams. I asked for a widower. First he had to love Jesus. That goes without saying. Committed to the body of believers. Someone who hadn’t dated much. A man who was married long and well. Affectionate. Fun. Someone I could tease and make fun of who wouldn’t get offended. I told God I’d like to be financially free, not independently wealthy per se, but able to at least afford a yearly vacation and have plans for retirement. Those things represented the kind of stability I craved. I didn’t demand anything of God, but dreamed with him about what kind of good life he had in store for me. 

While I waited and dreamed, I took all the steps to make my present life happy and fulfilled. 

Late on Christmas Day I made a profile on eHarmony. I was thorough and complete and didn’t pretend to be anything I am not. I made my faith in Jesus obvious. I set my filters and proceeded to look for anyone that was upfront about their faith as well. If they didn’t make their faith in Jesus clear, I assumed they didn’t share mine at all. 

I talked to a couple men online. I wept, overwhelmed. How does one begin to built trust with a complete stranger after betrayal? I grieved the need to start all over, begin from scratch, and I bemoaned the time that would be necessary to reach the comfort of a long and hard earned double decade marriage.

A few days in and I was already frustrated. I had chatted with a couple people, but the pool of men in my age group with no kids at home was small. On a whim, I raised the age filter to 53 to see what happened. 

My friend Sue again reassured me, “Nothing is impossible with God.” 

A match popped up and as I glanced at the photo I thought, “I could trust that face.” He was exactly 53. He had a great smile and looked slightly familiar. I read his complete profile but couldn’t place him. He lived nearby and attended a local church and I figured I’d seen him before, somewhere. I liked what he said about what he wanted. He was a widower who had been happily married to his best friend for 28 years.  Two grown and married daughters. One tiny grandson. His paragraph about how he envisioned married life was beautiful and brought tears to my eyes. I sent him a message. 

He responded immediately. He had seen my profile the day before but wasn’t sure I’d be ok with our age difference of 8 years. He had only been on eHarmony and other dating apps for only two weeks. 

We started chatting and didn’t stop all day. He asked me out two hours in. He hadn’t been a date in 30 years and I hadn’t been on a date in 23, so we figured we’d get the first date “over with.” We were on even ground figuring out how to date as middle aged adults. 

He wasn’t on Facebook so I couldn’t vet his identity using that method before our first date so he sent me to his wife’s caring bridge, and his business website. From there I found his wife Angie’s memorial page on FB and was delighted to see we had mutual friends! 

Dan and Betsie had been in college choir with me, we had toured Europe together with choir and they sang at my wedding. This was too good a connection! The guys had worked together in youth ministry during Dan’s early years as a pastor. I messaged Betsie and she was so excited Randy and I had found each other. I was amazed. Randy was no longer a random stranger. In that moment he  immediately became a trusted friend of friends. 

We continued to chat, finding more and more commonality, bantering and teasing. We kept checking boxes on our relationship wish lists and practical lifestyle needs lists, one by one. 

I texted my family that I had a date in a couple days, and they asked for a name and a picture. My sister thought he looked vaguely familiar too, like someone she’d seen at a youth pastors’ conference once or something. We laughed it off. Until Sara joined the chat with this comment. 

“Is he related to the Northern Pine’s Kallmans?!”

In an instant we all realized why Randy looked familiar! He and his family directed the Christian family conference our entire extended family had attended on and off for 40 years! He wasn’t just a friend of a friend! His family was embedded in a whole community my entire family knew!  

When I told Randy of my connection to NP, he was shocked. 

Neither of us make a habit of swearing but this moment deserved a swear, so we did. 

And then we laughed. Because somehow we knew. 

God did this. 

For us. 

For love. 

For healing.

For hope and a future. 

My ring sparkles. The ring is more than I could have dreamed, a perfect symbol of our relationship. Our love is brand new, but it’s already bigger and better than I expected, and experience has taught me, with investment, love grows greater, deeper, wider. 

Love came fast and furious and easy. He’s all I prayed for and everything I didn’t know I needed. 

I didn’t know it was possible.

But my friend’s message from Scripture is truth: 

With God, nothing is impossible.