We're Getting Married!

It was the sun-drenched summer of 2023 when restlessness stirred within me. I longed for something new, believing adventure lay somewhere beyond the familiar walls of home. Little did I know the greatest journey awaited just a short distance away. An old friend gave me the phone number of a woman I had never met—someone who would one day hold my heart completely. She lived nearby, yet far enough to remain a mystery. Our early conversations were warm and effortless, like two souls gently exploring unfamiliar but promising ground. We first met at a local church & received the blessings of the Pastor. I still remember the quiet electricity of that moment. Soon after, we found ourselves gliding across the lakes of Winter Park, sunlight dancing on the water around us. It felt peaceful, beautiful—almost heaven-sent. But after nearly forty years away from courtship, I was clumsy. I stumbled where I should have stepped carefully and spoke when I should have listened. She, accomplished and discerning, did not overlook my missteps. Distance followed—limited contact and guarded hope. Yet something sacred lingered beneath the silence. In August 2024, I attended her church for a memorial service in which she participated. From the pulpit, she greeted me warmly. That simple gesture felt like sunlight breaking through clouds. I asked if we might intentionally seek God’s will. We agreed to pray for two weeks. She prayed faithfully but did not sense a clear affirmation. My prayer, however, had been simple: that if this love were meant to be, God would gently soften her heart. Soon after came NCU Day at a local church. She attended, unaware it was my church. Had she known, she later admitted, she might not have come. Yet she stayed. We talked, laughed, and even visited a shut-in together that afternoon—an unexpected moment of shared ministry that felt significant. The following day, we both attended a boat cruise hosted by NCUAA. She boarded alone; I stepped on just behind her, when I asked why she hadn’t mentioned she would be there, she simply said it hadn’t come up. I asked to sit with her. With playful honesty, she said she didn’t want to miss meeting an eligible gentleman. I smiled and assured her she was already in his presence. Though she did not formally invite me to sit, empty seats across from her seemed reserved. We ate and talked, and later my daughter joined us, offering a quiet, approving smile. From that weekend, everything shifted. Dates followed—natural, joyful, filled with discovery. We explored Orlando not merely as companions but as two hearts growing closer. Laughter deepened. Prayer became shared. Walls gently lowered. What once felt uncertain began to feel divinely arranged. On Christmas Day, surrounded by family at my daughter’s home, I placed a ring on her finger—a symbol of commitment and redemption. Proof that even detours can lead exactly where God intends. Now, June 14, 2026, is set—the day we will stand before God and promise forever. Ours has not been a straight road. It has been a roller coaster—steep climbs, sharp turns, sudden drops. But it has also been rich with grace, patience, and unmistakable providence. What began as a longing to explore the world became the discovery of something far greater: A love refined by patience, strengthened by prayer, and guided—every step of the way—by the hand of God.