How I Knew He Was the One

I didn't date my husband. We were friends, and I knew he liked me. I was only 19 at the time, thought I knew everything, and I just knew he wasn't the one: until he was. 

Randy was a goofy looking guy with a bad mullet a few years past the days when mullets were cool and way too quiet. I on the other hand, am not shy; I laugh too loudly, and have never met a stranger I could not tell the most intimate details of my life to on a moment’s notice. This shy guy and I had lots of friends in common, but we never really interacted at all because, in my opinion, we were oil and water. 

I knew he liked me. That puppy-dog face he made when he thought I wasn't looking, or the tension in the room when I would talk about my “ex” were good giveaways. The other problem was, I was still wrapped up in my hurt about the one who got away. 

You know, the guy who I thought was the one: until he wasn't. I had been hurt and I did not want to cause that kind of pain to anyone else, so I decided I would not date anyone else; especially if they liked me. That would be too risky: for them and me. 

So Randy and I just hung out with friends. 

Randy’s best friend Jason warned him off, calling me “damaged goods” and telling Randy he thought I was just husband hunting. So I wasn't interested and Randy was warned off, yet, somehow, we were constantly drawn to each other. I began talking to him every time he was around, and when he returned to Christ for the Nations to finish out his year I let him write to me and call, all the while asserting that we could only be friends. 

At the time I was living next door to the church I was the praise and worship leader in, and I ran up an AT&T phone card bill because believe it or not, nearly 19 years ago there were very few people with cell phones and the only phone nearby was the one in the church office. 

After nearly two and a half months of talking, writing, and flirting- hey, I am only human- spring break had rolled around. Randy came home to visit once more. 

After a fun-filled week of working the three jobs it took to keep me in Ra-men noodles and bean burritos, and hanging out with Randy as much as I could, I began to feel like I had done exactly what I did not want to do: I had lead this guy on. 

We had zipped around town together in my little baby blue 1988 Yugo and he even ran my paper route with me to keep me company. I was feeling horrible, because deep down I did not feel the same way this guy did and I knew this would only hurt him. 

On the last day of spring break, I sat him down and told him, again, (it had become a mantra with me) that we could ONLY be friends. 

Then something strange happened. 

Randy made the longest speech he had ever made all at once, and he was assertive about it. 

He said, “I don’t care if I am 85 and you are 80, so long as you are in my life, and we are friends, then I will be happy.” Time stopped for me. 

He didn't declare his undying love or give me romance with flowers and fine dining, but he showed me his heart in that one sentence. I knew, without a doubt, that the sincerity in his face was because he did love me. Suddenly he became ten times cuter, and I did not mind the mullet so much. His eyes became bluer and I was a goner. 

He returned to Bible school, six hours away and I could not get this geeky, sweet and totally Godly guy, out of my head. 

A week later I called him and asked if we could try out a long distance thing. He immediately said yes. Three days later he told me he loved me, and I knew it was true. What was more is I loved him. When did that happen? Two days after that Randy asked me to marry him. 

We have had our problems. We have had our share of joys and sadness, heartaches and triumphs, but throughout it all we have had the power of his love to get us through. I say “his love”, because without that love, we would not even be here. Randy patterned his love after the way God loves us, selflessly. I love him because he first loved me. He continues to love me that way and that is how I knew he was the one, mullet and all.