Before I go any further in my personal story and before we start Made to Crave in February; it's only right that I tell you about my sweet husband, Brian. So much of this story is his too and so much of my battle, he bears the wounds of. I have said before that when Brian met me at 17, he had no idea what I was packing in the baggage that came along with me and it was 10 years into our marriage before he convinced me that he wasn't going anywhere because of it. Sometimes the dark places were so deep, I would literally beg him to leave me. But he refused. I have spent the last 20 years trying to make him glad he made that choice. I will forever be in his debt.
When I was in high school I had basically one boyfriend that I went back and forth with over the course of the 4 years. I dated other boys short term-off and on, but one special one kept bopping his way back into my heart over and over. He was a blonde, tall drink of water from the major city high school where I grew up. He was funny, gentle, loved basketball and played the guitar in a group we both sang in from my church. He was my first and I believe only real love during those young years, and from age 14 until around my 17th birthday- he guarded my heart. He was absolutely God sent for that time in my life and I loved him as much as someone that age can. I had a deep bond with him and I thought no matter how many times we broke up, that eventually (as did both of our families) he was who I would marry. I broke his heart as young girls will do, but he was always kind, always a gentleman and always came back- over and over. I am so sorry that I hurt him so many times, it is one of my biggest regrets during those years but as much as I hate to admit it, it was God protecting him. I wasn't near ready to get married and if we had sustained the path we were on, I doubt that I would have made it out of high school before we ran off to somewhere where we didn't need permission. That is how deeply I felt about him. He is happily married now to a very sweet girl and I am so happy for him. (If you are reading this and you know who you are… consider yourself lucky) I am so sorry that I was a crazy, emotional teenage girl. That didn't change much for a very long time, so you did good. You can say a "Thank You Jesus" right now and I won't take it personally…
At 17, I received an invitation to come live at a Christian campground that I had been volunteering at for 2 summers. It was an opportunity to attend bible college and be on staff (room and board as compensation) and I jumped at it. Blondie and me were "off" again and it looked like it was possibly the last time he was going to let me waltz back in and disrupt his life, so I was ready for a change. I graduated mid-year and packed my stuff and left my parent's home. I am not sure if they knew I would never live there again in the same capacity, but I think that deep down, I did. I looked at my 3 own kids when they were all 17 and thought about that moment. They didn't look old enough to me to decide if a shirt was dirty or clean enough to wear- but I thought I did, and for me; then- that was enough
My husband says that he noticed me that day when I got off the bus at the church where they were picking up the "newbies" only because someone said, "Who's the redhead?" Little did he know then, but it would be only 7 short months before he would hear that question again. This time from a "newbie", but his answer would be much different… this time he would say, "She's my fiancée."
I wondered for the first few years we were married if he ever wished he hadn't made sure he said it loud enough for that guy to hear him.
It was January when I first moved to the camp and it was March before I ever really laid eyes on Brian. I think it was mostly because he was so quiet and withdrawn. He didn't really talk to any of the girls that congregated together and his work detail was very specific so our paths didn't really cross that much. I am sure we sat close together in class or one of the many required church services, but he just never caught my eye. I was still reeling from my last break-up, so I tried to stay focused on my work and getting my head on a little straighter.
A very good friend of mine in the dorm had a fiancé that was also on specific work detail. His job was to keep the machinery in working condition on the campgrounds. It needed constant attention because for one; most of it was either donated or second-hand because we were a non-profit organization and two because the camp was huge and it just took a lot of gear to keep it up. Brian's work detail coincided with the fiancés work detail because her fiancé was legally blind. Brian was very good at working on anything mechanical (he still is, Praise Jesus) and so he was the "eyes" of the operation. He would tell him what he saw and then "Fiancé" would ask for a tool and do the repair himself or he would help point Brian in the right direction. One day my friend asked me to walk down to the maintenance building with her, so I did. Now, I am not sure if they were matchmaking on purpose and she has never admitted it to me if they were, but when Brian pulled himself out from under a tractor to meet me, I think I stopped breathing. It's as if I just knew that somehow my life would never be the same. Thank goodness for small miracles- same is way over rated.
Brian was nothing like Mr. Basketball, big city high school, guitar player. NOTHING. Here is a hint just how opposite they were….
When my grandmother first met him she pulled me aside afterwards and said, "Jama… Are you sure?"
tee-hee.
It's funny now because when she had Alzheimer's at the end of her life, she didn't even know me; her first grandchild. But she knew Brian. She quickly became enthralled with him after that first day, but it still tickles me when I think about her question and face full of concern.
When I met Brian, at 18 he was already losing his hair. When he laments about it today- I just say, "Honey I knew you were losing it in 1981. I didn't think it was going to grow back."
After all bald is beautiful. Some guys don't need hair, Brian is one of them.
He was also the second shortest guy I had ever been interested in. At 5' 9" he wasn't much taller than me. NOW I know it was because I needed him to be the right height to be able to fold both arms around me and pull me in so I could be in the center of his chest, by his heart. I would need that over and over through the years, but for now… well- he was kinda on the short side. But unlike Grandma; I don't think I even noticed.
He was also a "good ole' boy" from Kentucky who had traveled back and forth from childhood home to childhood home, with only his brother as his best friend. I had basically grown up in 2 homes my whole life, and had never even eaten sausage gravy and biscuits. Thank goodness the camp started serving them so I eventually got somewhat of a clue how to make them; but for the most part we were polar opposites. I was loud and gabby; he was quiet and thought before he spoke. And he didn't care for me one bit when we first met. I love to remind him of this. He swears it didn't last long, but it still makes me smile. Maybe it was his "Fight or Flight" instinct trying to kick in- leaning towards the Flight part. Thank God he didn't.
A month later; we ended up talking until late into the night. Interest had been sparked but we both were coming off break-ups and felt the need to warn the other that we weren't ready for another round. I think Brian's exact words were, "I am not getting married for at least 5 years." And my reply was, "Good. I don't want to get married anyway." We were almost inseparable from that point on.
As a matter of fact; we were engaged by July and married that November. Eight months from start to finish and absolutely God ordained (So much for 5 years; who says God doesn't have sense of humor??). I needed Brian to keep me from jumping off the ledge I just didn't know it yet. My bulimia was at a slow ebb (it just isn't that easy when you live with 4 other girls in a small dorm) so I was bouncing back and forth between crazy diets (like nothing but popcorn or green beans…) and anorexia, ruining my metabolism and straining my emotional and mental well-being as I tried to maintain control. Brian was then as he is now, my Angel. He has laughed with me and cried with me. He has taken car keys away from me when I tried to "leave him for his own good" and checked me into a hospital when I was drowning emotionally. He has stood by my side through the birth of our children and stood outside the bathroom door to make sure I wasn't purging after a meal. There are too many things to even begin to list that he has been, done and said over our 30 years together for me to even get a running start, but you had to know his story before I could go any further into mine. He IS me and to this day, losing him is single greatest fear of my life. He has kept my head above water for so long I am not sure what I would do without his rescue. I just trust that God knows today like he did 30 years ago how desperately I need him. His truck pulling into the garage is still my favorite sound of the day, and when he calls me "Baby"- I see that same blue-eyed boy pulling himself out from under a tractor to say hi.
A long time ago, I slept with a handwritten list under my pillow of all the things I wanted in a husband. Not long after Brian and I got married, I pulled that list out and realized God had given me every one.
So whenever I am upset about some unanswered prayer, or doubt that God even cares about the dust speck of my life, all I have to do is reach across my king sized bed and feel the heartbeat next to me that is still so much my own; even after all these years.
My Angel with the blue jeans on- not in bed… but well; you get my drift.
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