We met through a mutual friend, Mr. Lanchus—Cristian’s former youth minister and, at the time, a new core member at my parish. I was desperately looking for a DJ willing to volunteer their time and talent for a charity fundraiser, and Mr. Lanchus immediately thought of Cristian. Without knowing the nonprofit, the event, or even who he was ultimately helping, Cristian generously agreed. We only exchanged a few logistical messages before meeting in person the day of the fundraiser. We laugh about it now, because without realizing it at the time, we were both completely smitten from the start. I very clearly remember walking up to shake his hand and internally talking to God: “Oh no… he’s tall, Latino, bearded, and handsome. Papa, this is not fair. How could You put a man like this in front of me? He has to be taken.” I genuinely thought God was teasing me. All I knew then was that we were both heavily involved in our parish youth ministries and shared a love for serving others. As the night went on, I—very on brand—managed to slip and fall on my butt during El Caballo Dorado, front row and center. Cristian had his own moment too when his music cut out (though I didn’t even notice). What he later told me stood out to him wasn’t my very embarrassing & public fall, but how I spent the night running around serving, laughing, and fully present with my LifeTeen students. He said I looked genuinely happy and “pure joy.” When he shared that with me during a long, honest phone call later on, a puzzle piece settled into place for me. I had always hoped that if I ever fell in love, it would be with someone who truly saw me—who noticed me in my element, doing what I love, and understood what brings me joy. Loving youth, serving others, being present—those things are at the core of who I am. And somehow, in the middle of that busy night, he noticed that. I noticed him too. I noticed the quiet, humble way he approached my teens to ask what music they liked, how he adjusted the playlist just to make their night better as they cleaned up after a long evening of serving. I noticed how he didn’t just give his time and talent, but also supported the cause wholeheartedly, even participating in the silent auction. He was intentional and genuine. At the end of the night, Cristian invited me to help serve at a retreat his parish was short-staffed for—later admitting he also hoped it would give us a chance to get to know each other better. Saying yes to that retreat opened the door to everything that followed. Our conversations slowly shifted from “professional” messages to easy, natural, and meaningful ones. Texts turned into long phone calls, and those calls turned into hours of talking about faith, family, life, and what we hoped for in the future. It’s impossible to put into words how organically and beautifully our love grew. What I do know is that God’s hand and fingerprints have been all over our relationship—from the way our paths crossed despite living an hour apart, to how our strengths and weaknesses complement each other, and how His grace continues to guide us even through low moments. Over time, I realized that being loved by Cristian feels like being deeply seen, chosen, and cared for. His love reflects God’s love in ways that always lead me back to Him. Our hope is that everyone gets to experience the fullness of love that exists when you invite God into your life and your relationship. Because when you surrender your heart to Him, He teaches you how to love more patiently, more kindly, more faithfully—just as love was always meant to be (1 Corinthians 13).