Hi! Kat here. this story is not finished, and I will be adding little bits as I'm able, but This is the story of how Gage and I ended up in the mess we're in today (that is: getting married). Try as we might, we're still very excited about spending the rest of our lives together despite all the well-meaning folks who say it's no walk-in-the-park-bed-of-roses endeavor. In fact, in many ways people make it sound like walking barefoot in a bed of roses the size of a park- painful, exhausting, and waaaaaay to long. But that's why we wanted to tell you the story. If marriage is as hard as they say, and God hates divorce, then we had better pick well the first time.

In February of 2012, I had been saved and following Jesus only a couple months, but I was totally enamored with Him. He had saved my life, and He was working on changing my heart to be more like His. I saw His power, provision, and unmatched love for me and it was awesome. I had given my heart and my life to Him, but there was one BIG thing I did not. I had started dating someone who thought he was a Christian (but was not) and I was so new to following Jesus that I couldn't tell the difference. However, the Lord was warning me in my heart that it was not His will. After ten or so months of garbage relationship stuff and my college pastor telling me this guy was no good (shout out to Jeff), I caved into the Lord's now clear will for me. Plus by that time, it didn't take an atheist to be able tell that the guy I was dating didn't love the Lord or understand the Bible. So, on the Sunday before Valentine's Day after this guy snaps at someone asking him how he liked the sermon (I tried to take him to church), I knew I had the perfect set-up to stinkin’ obey the Lord already and break it off with Mr. GrumpyJudgyFace.

The next day, I was walking around Bakersfield College (not for fun, I actually went to college for a bit), and considering the freshness I felt in my soul. I didn't realize that Mr. GrumpyJudgyFace was the last major chain shackling me to my old life. I had finally surrendered all my will to the Lord for His pleasure and bidding and it was exhilarating. It was then and that day that I made a promise that would test me and bless me beyond expectation. I had always (since high school) wanted to spend two years being single so that I could sort of figure out who I was and what I wanted. I had always been weak and entered into another relationship before too long, and was never able to do it, but now that I had the Holy Spirit living in me, I knew I could do whatever I needed to in order to draw nearer to Christ. This time, the desired end wasn’t to “find myself,” but to find out more about the Lord and understand my new identity that is hidden in Him. And so I promised Him two years. The weather was overcast and it began to rain. At first, I thought that God Himself gave it to me as a sign saying, "Welcome at last to your new life," and something big was going to happen. I quickly dismissed it thinking that it was foolish to think God would bring in weather for some small person who dumped a mean boyfriend, but out of the corner of my mind came a little impression that seemed to say, "But don't you think I would? Don't you think I know how your mind works?" I grinned and probably giggled to myself, and from then on, my Heavenly Father and I had a little inside joke to Ourselves.

By the time January 2013 rolled around, I found myself in a very obnoxious, perfectly preventable, yet thoroughly emotionally difficult situation. A young man and good friend had become interested in me, and in the weeks leading up to January, I found myself having too much interest in him. When you have two straight people of opposite genders hanging out and talking a lot, an attraction is generally inevitable, especially at our age. It’s not the most romantic thing to think you can develop feelings for like, anyone, but there you have it. He wanted to meet up and talk, and I knew the conversation was coming. The “Hey, I like you, you like me, let’s start dating! Yay!” conversation. I told him my situation: I had promised Jesus to stay single two years, and I was only a year through. He was a little disappointed, but said that he would wait for me. How romantic. What most Christian girls want to hear, and Christian boys intend to do. But for now, I had avoided breaking my promise. As I drove home, it soon became apparent that it had rained at some point during our conversation. I remembered the overcast day at BC when I made that promise, and realized that the Lord had just very clearly hinted to me that He was approving of my rejecting that guy- not because of the guy, but because I made my God a promise. I could feel it. I knew it. I cried tears of disbelief and joy on the way home, knowing my Lord was clearly speaking to me and very pleased with my decision.

Sorry to say thereafter this young man and I embarked on a cyclical process that amounted to him being tired of the suspense, demanding to know if we could enter into a dating relationship yet, me reminding him that I had a promise to keep, him being quelled for the time being, and me going home feeling twisted up, defeated, and very alone. God had to remind me that I needed His grace, and it was only by His grace that I was able to weakly retain my position as a decidedly single Christian. I would cry out to God when I was feeling especially mopey and one day found myself praying something like this: “Lord, this is so hard! When this two years is over, PLEASE have it set up where I can start dating quickly afterward. But, even if it’s not this guy, I want it to be the man I will marry. Please make it to where I will have known him for at least a year. I’m sorry. Amen.” Knowing this guy for a year was important, because I knew that if we had a solid friendship as a foundation, we’d have a relationship that could weather whatever storm, even if there’s not much romance in the air. When stormy winds blow, whatever’s lingering in the air just kinda blows away anyway. I finished this prayer then promptly forgot about it. I don’t think I truly expected God to answer such a weak pitiful prayer for such a petty thing. Also, I hadn’t done the math, but I asked to know my future husband for a year before we started dating, and I was 1 year through my promised allotted time for singleness. I was basically asking the Lord to develop this relationship I’m asking for right then, because in asking to begin dating my future husband in a year when my vow was fulfilled but also make sure that we had known each other for at least year, meant that the Lord would have to bring this guy into the picture as soon as possible. Like right then. Incidentally, one William Gage Gunter IV moved down to Bakersfield from one of the rainiest states in the country right around this time...

With the return of February, this other guy and I were in a very muddled, awkward non-dating, but suspiciously emotional pseudo-friendship-relationship. One Sunday morning I received an ultimatum in the form of a text of all things stating something similar to, “Look, I’m tired of the suspense. You need to tell me if we're going to be dating or not. If I don’t have an answer by March, I’m calling the whole thing off.” Well, I can tell you, there are three things you don’t do when you want to get something accomplished: 1.) you don’t send a bunch of red shirts on a rescue mission, 2.) you do NOT simply walk into Mordor, and 3.) do NOT issue a Filipino woman an ultimatum. In fact, you’d have better luck sending your red shirts into Mordor. I returned the text saying, “Then I suppose that answers your question. The Lord hasn't said no, but He hasn't said yes to us dating either. If you can't wait until He says yes, then the answer is no.” I afterwards, I realized that the Lord had spared the both of us- dodging a mutual bullet. I don’t respond well to attempts to rule by fear. I needed a guy who could assert his dominance meekly and gently, but still be firm and direct. I knew that me and this guy could never work, and felt pretty dumb for having to be dragged this far to finally see it. I remember later in June after this person had moved on and moved away, he called to talk about what happened to our friendship. I went out to my car to take the call. After a good conversation where there was reconciliation and agreement, I looked at my windshield to see what I thought was an impossible thing. There were no sprinklers on nearby, no one watering their flowers at 10 at night, no random priests on an evening stroll sprinkling the sidewalks with holy water - but there were drops of water gathering on my windshield. In June? In Bakersfield? It was dark, but there seemed to be clouds in the sky, and soon a light misting of rain covered the neighborhood. Hm.

Life went on from there, and I had learned a few highly practical and particularly humbling lessons- one of the most important ones being “guy + girl + time + talking = romance” generally. Not that I fully mastered the ability to keep a safe distance. Over the course of the following year, I began to hang out the Gage more often, knowing that I had several months left to my promise and that I could not allow myself to get that close to a man just yet. Buuuuuut, I did. June, July, then August. Gage was assisting his dad as a Danielle’s Legacy purity event at the photography booth, and I had modeled a dress during the fashion show. We were both part of the clean-up crew, and when it came time to leave, he walked me to where I was parked and offered his hand to assist me into my car. A rather archaic yet, gentlemanly gesture. I was taken aback- no one acts like this. Surely it had to be some act- he was just playing around, I reasoned, and yet, I didn’t fully succeed in convincing myself. Over the course of time, it proved to be a habit of his. If you ask him, he’d say his parents raised him to be polite and respectful, but he picked up his gentlemanly ways from watching old classic black and white movies. Had I stumbled upon a genuine specimen of chivalry? Eh, it didn’t matter. Can’t date him anyway.

Once, I was sitting and talking with some friends (all guys). I was trying to share something that Jesus had shown me and was deeply impacting, but they were in a joking mood. I’d start and was interrupted, as is customary, and it became funny where I’d start then a different guy would cut me off, but it stopped being funny and started getting frustrating after a bit. I didn’t feel like sharing anything deep or vulnerable anymore. They pressed me to share but I was done. They eventually moved on, I sulked in my corner, and they got distracted by something else. Then that guy that I nearly started dating came up and asked what was wrong. I told him and he told me to cheer up and walked away. Eh, he tried. Then Gage (who was there, but didn’t take part in teasing) walked up and sat across from me. He asked me for my hand. I hesitated, but gave him my left hand. He took it, covered it with his other hand and lowered his head to meet me at eye-level. He said, “I want you to know that I am and I will always be willing to listen. You don’t have to talk now, and I understand why you wouldn’t, but just know that I’d love to hear what you have to say. You just have to let me know okay?” I just looked at him. He was so serious and genuine. I'd never seen anyone make such a sincere gesture over such a small thing, but I did sense that this was important to him. I told him I understood. He relaxed and sat straighter (hunching that far can’t be comfortable). Immediately, I felt safer and better. What the others got wrong was that they poked too much fun then ignored the offense they dealt. The other guy made a cheap attempt to show he cared, had no obligation to really help, and told me how to feel. What Gage got right was that he was sincere, committed, and sensitive to my plight. This is something that I can confidently testify is part of his character to this day, and it’s what set him apart from every other young man I knew. The most Christ-like man that day was the new guy.

It’s interesting, because Gage is not the most learned when it comes to the Scriptures and the stories of the Bible, he’s not the most focused individual, he’s not the boldest when it comes to sharing his faith, but he’s patient, kind, he doesn’t stew in envy, he doesn’t parade himself, he’s not puffed up, he doesn’t behave rudely, he doesn’t seek only his own benefit, he’s not easily provoked, he doesn’t dwell on evil things nor rejoice in them, but does rejoice in truth. He bears with me, believes in me, hopes the best for me, and endures all the things I throw at him. I won’t say he never fails, but he never fails to set things right with me. The last 3 to 4 years testifies to me that this isn’t an act he puts on to impress people, but this genuinely is part of his character. This is a Godly man. A Godly man seeks the Father to be conformed into the image of His Son Jesus by the power of the Holy Spirit who lives in him. It's not that all the other guys I know don't do this, but I picked Gage because he first picked me, because he is gentle in his dealing with me (even when I'm at my worst), but he's firm and just when he needs to be. In Ephesians 5, the Bible talks about how a marriage is a man living laying down his life for his woman, and woman offering her life to her man. It's a delicate balance that is only kept fair and healthy by a commitment to one another and to Christ. Leaning too far one way or the other is dangerous. For me, there's no one else that makes this struggle seem more doable and more beautiful than Gage. The only One better than that is the perfect and awesome God and Savior, Jesus Christ whom marriage is modeled after- Him laying down His life for His church, the the church submitting their lives to Him. He died on the cross for our sins, we live in obedience out of love. It works.

So September. I signed up to work at our church’s booth at the Kern County fair, and the other person who was supposed to be my partner dropped out on me. Quickly, I jumped at the chance to invite Wyllie and Gage to help me at the fair instead. They accepted, and I felt stupid. I shouldn’t be trying to hang out with this guy too much. I’ll end up interested in him. (Ha, too late.) At the beginning of our shift (that I fully expected Wyllie to serve with us at the booth), Wyllie left promptly to find a restroom, leaving Gage and I alone amidst all the fairgoers. No big deal, but he was gone for a while. Was he okay? What’s going on? He comes back the first time with two icy lemonade things, and promptly disappears again. As he came back again and again with different snacks and treats, Gage and I just enjoyed each other’s company, not thinking too much of Wyllie’s odd behavior, just making ourselves busy talking to people. Later after our shift, Wyllie claimed to be tired (and he might’ve been), and he told us to go enjoy the fair while he sat at the booth with the next pair during their shift. He even bought us bracelets to be able to get on all the rides we wanted. There I found that Gage shared my love of roller coasters and similar thrills. And Gage offered me his arm to walk together. On the inside, my brain was hurled into red alert mode, alarms blaring, red lights flashing, panic setting in. I knew it wasn’t a good idea if I wanted to keep my emotional distance, but the problem was I didn’t want to keep my emotional distance. I shot him a suspicious look and said something akin to, “That’s not a very platonic gesture,” but he assured me that he had escorted girls that he considered sisters before, and so I assumed things were safe on his end. However, I knew that things were not all good on my end, and I walked around all night with those warning sirens blaring in my head. They were not loud enough to drown out the fair rides and the giddiness however.

October passed, and we had gotten very comfortable in our friendship with one another. I thought I had a good grasp on my feelings and all, but I had been making all these emotional investments in my relationship with Gage which meant I was backing myself into a very tight corner in a bunch of different ways- the most pressing being that I was going to make it much harder on myself to keep the commitment I had already made with the Lord. November. Oh, November. November was the month that we made what was probably obvious to everyone else evident to one another. November we confessed, rather by accident, that we had come to develop an infatuation with one another. Short story shorter, we had a poking/ tickling match that turned into a hug, that turned into a hold, with me resting my head on his chest and I remember Gage saying, “I could get used to this.” Dang it. Conviction settled in and now I had to break it to him, as much as I just wanted to enjoy the moment. “We can’t get used to this,” I said sadly as I pushed him away. The look on his face was heart-wrenching and immediately gave way to tears. I was a little stunned. I didn’t know how much this meant to him. I quickly explained that I wasn’t rejecting him, I merely had a promise to fulfill. He asked me how long until the 2 years was up, and I scrambled for my phone and looked on the calendar. The Sunday before Valentine’s Day 2014 was going to be February 10th. Two and a half months. He told me that he would wait for me, and I replied with an ounce of cynicism telling him that I had heard that before (and I had). But he promised and I believed him.

Then in December, I was set to fly out of country on a half mission trip, half family visit. Months earlier, the Lord had let me know that He was ready for me to go to the Philippines, and I made the arrangements. Through another set of circumstances too detailed to tell, the Lord set it up to where there would be 3 other experienced missionaries going with me. The day before I left, I wanted to hang out with Gage, and so I picked him up and we spent the day together. He seemed oddly melancholy- trying to enjoy himself, but something was off. I was excited about going out of the country for the first time, but he was very sad about living everyday life without the person that had come to be his best friend for the next two weeks. I had to admit, I was going to miss him very much as well. The day came, and I few to see my mom. The trip was an amazing success, but it was hard. I was out of my usual fellowship, eaten alive by mosquitos, and tested in my faithfulness to share the gospel while out of my comfort zone. But I also got to swim in clear seas near some of the richest coral reefs in the world, hike into the jungle to minister to a remote tribe, and see my own mother accept Christ and get baptized right before my very eyes. I still missed Gage, but the Lord kept me busy fulfilling just about every part of Matthew 25: 35 & 36, and it was a fruitful time. But I was glad to go back home. I got a video of my mom’s baptism, and I couldn’t watch it without crying. Gage and Wyllie met me when I came back, and they were the first people I shared it with.

Going into January, we found that we had fallen into an interesting situation of tangled emotions and desperate attempts to keep those emotions in check. We limited ourselves to the types of conversations that we would have because we did not want to have conversations that friends wouldn’t have, and dating couples would. I had started counseling with Sherrill our Women’s Ministry Director, and seeking prayer from wiser, older ladies as to whether or not I could or should start dating Gage after my commitment was fulfilled. What I told them was basically this: I know he doesn’t have a job right now, I’m not sure if he’d be a suitable spiritual leader, and I don’t want to start dating someone just because I’m going to be free to do so after February 10th. I was SO stressed out over what the Lord’s will was. I felt like He wasn’t giving me a clear yes or no kind of answer. I was worried that my emotions had gotten so strong and out of control that I could no longer hear (or want to hear) what He had to say about it. At the very end of that month, Gage came to me with a proposition that his dad had come up with. He suggested that we “fast” or abstain from talking with one another for 10 days before we come together to begin talking about dating. This was the last thing one would want emotionally to do, but as a born again Christian, you want to get all other distractions out of the way so you can hear God when you seek after Him. I asked Sherrill what she thought, and she said that it couldn’t hurt to. Couldn’t hurt, alright. But spiritually speaking, she was right. I thought about it further as went to Wednesday night service.

We were in Deuteronomy 11, and as Pastor Mike preached on verses 13 and 14, I could tell the Lord was speaking to my heart. “...if you listen to my command and love the Lord your God and serve Him with all your heart and all your soul, then He will give the early rain and the latter rain for your land and you will be able to bring in your grain, your wine, and your oil.” I took it as the Lord basically saying taking 10 days to seek Him, and push my emotions aside for a while was a good idea. Serve Him and love Him with everything I’ve got, and He will pour out blessing in my life and make me be a fruitful Christian. Well, that’s what I wanted- more than anything and everything else. I decided that the fasting thing was the thing to do. I told Gage after service, and we arranged to meet one another at our church’s café to go over what the boundaries needed to be. Thursday morning, I opened the garage to get in my car to drive to work and gasped. It was pouring rain. I had completely forgot about that, and here I was facing what my heart took to be the Lord’s head nod of approval. I was very excited. Later after work, Gage met me in the café and I brought out a piece of paper. Now, good Christian kids, this list was a list tailored for us. We had come to know and understand how as friends we developed our own flirting language that did not help us keep emotional distance, and that needed to stop- especially over the course of these 10 days. And the Lord guided me as I sought Him. When I needed an answer and guidance, He provided. As I sought to be faithful to Him and please Him, He directed my path. We were here to see what the Lord would have US (and uniquely us) do.

We were excited to begin taking a major step towards what could end up being a dating relationship, but first we needed to clear our minds (as much as we could) and seek the Lord's will in it. We took a seat at the table where he first took my hand and told me that he'd be there to listen to me, and we honestly brought up the things that were making it hard to just be friends and not start planning a future together. We didn't know what we were doing, nor heard of anything like this before, but looking back, I regret nothing about it. So: No calling or texting unless there’s some sort of emergency- there were plenty of other friends we had that we could ask for prayer or something. We would not have a one-on-one conversation face-to-face, but we could be in the same group having a conversation. If the group was having conversation about future, marriage, dating, kids, or anything that we could use as a means of communicating with one another about dating, we could hang out and listen, but not take part in the conversation. We would not invite one another to outings, but leave it to our friends to invite the other person so we don’t use outings as excuses to be around the other. No contact other than side hugs hello and goodbye, because even just messing with one’s hair or poking was flirtatious. At outings we would not sit directly across or next to each other, but at least with one person between us because we favored being near one another over other people. Yes, the boundaries were strict, but we knew ourselves and what we needed in order to survive the next ten days. There was a reason behind all of it. So, we agreed upon these all together and prayed the Lord would have His will in all of it. The next ten days went by ssoooooo ssslllooooowwlllyyy….

But during those 10 days, I received interesting prayer and advice from my good friend and roommate Carole. She told me that I should write Gage letters and give them to him at the end of this time. I thought that was cool, so I did pen a few. I told him about my fears, my hesitations, my excitement, and for the first time I explained to him my appreciation for his character and genuine faith. Also, I took a day to pray and seek the Lord over my “Mr. Right List.” Every girl who has ever gone to our church’s purity series or counseled about this kind of thing has one. It’s a list of characteristics that you want in the man you’ll marry, then a prayer that the Lord shapes you into the “Mrs. Right” for him. I took the day to review my list (62 items long), and discovered that he fit pretty well. Whatever didn’t fit were all things that either he was growing into or time just hadn’t told yet. However, there was one glaring issue. I had asked the Lord for someone older than me. He’s 4 years younger. I already felt pretty strange about that, but I had nearly entirely forgotten that age was one of my immovable deal-breakers. Maybe I had my answer there. Maybe Gage just wasn't Mr. Right and I could quit now. I continued to pray, and I asked the Lord why THIS time was I okay dating and possibly marrying younger than me. I got my answer faster than I anticipated: because what I was hoping to avoid numerically was actually a heart issue. What I really wanted was a man that would be mature and sober when he needed to be and serious about his relationship with Christ. Part of the requirement also asked that he not be too old, which meant not a stick in the mud who takes himself too seriously and never does anything adventurous. What I was asking for was a mentality, not necessarily a number (although 4 years is tough for me). I prayed though a few more things on that list, and got pretty clear answers to my reservations. I continued being excited and anxious as time went on.

Well, the tenth came and I was pretty nerve-wrecked. The time had finally come and I was free to have the "Should We Start Dating" talk. I decided that with the ability to talk about getting into a relationship now, I wanted to know a few things. We met up, grabbed some Chick-fil-a, and picked a picnic table at Riverwalk Park. For the next couple hours, we talked about our directions in life, our goals, our callings, and our hopes. It wasn’t a particularly romantic conversation, but it was important so we could figure out if it was worth continuing to talk about getting into anything deeper than a friendship. If these things didn’t match up, then it would be better to continue waiting for a man who’s calling and lifestyle I could support and handle, and better for him to move on and find a woman who could come along side him well. So for our direction- neither of us knew what careers or educational direction we wanted so it matched in a way (hahaha!). Goals? Travel. See the world. Honor the Lord. Serve at a church. One thing that stuck out to me was that he said he’d like to be so involved at church, that it was his second home. Ding ding! I not only agree, but I spend more time at church than at my house anyway. As far as calling- it was kinda like direction- really hard to pin down. I asked him what his preference would be if he got to choose, and he said that he’d like to travel, serve God, and then settle down and help launch other Christians out into the world to serve the Lord too. Cool! Whether or not I’d get to do that, it was definitely a hope of mine. So, I came away with a general sense that we had no idea what we were doing, but not that we couldn’t do whatever we would do together. We each had a blank slate and a bunch of ideas that didn’t clash, and futures and hearts that the Lord could really direct wherever He wanted to. So, was I ready to date? Nope, still scared I was missing something.

So, in the next few days was Valentine’s Day, and we were not (yet) a couple. Gage asked me not, necessarily to be his Valentine, but what I wanted to do for Valentine’s Day. I replied that I would prefer not to do something just for us, but if we were going to spend a Valentine’s Evening together then, I like to do so serving the Lord. Our church was having a Sweetheart’s Carnival and dinner that evening and we signed up to help run it. I seem to remember that Gage ran the air-soft target booth, and I had the dart throwing booth, and both those booths were right next to each other. In serving the Lord and my church, Gage got to work with air-soft stuff (he loves air-soft), I got to be in charge of throwing sharp pointy things (so fitting), and I was able to serve alongside my best friend. I’ve found that it’s true if you seek first the Kingdom of God and His righteousness, then all the things you need get added to you- plus, often times extra things thrown in- just ‘cause He likes ya. Dude, our God is so awesome. So the night went well. We even scored free dinner and marriage advice- all the married couples were asked at some point during the night to get in front of a camera and record advice for the young couples in attendance. It was a perfect first (unofficial) Valentine’s, as far as I was concerned.

The next few days advanced and life continued on in every other aspect. I was talking to my brother who was a corpsman in the Navy and stationed at Camp Pendleton at the time. However, the Navy suddenly moved him to Twenty-Nine Palms, and his one bedroom apartment lay abandoned while the lease ticked closer to its end. I found out that he wasn’t given enough time to move or even pack up his things, and the lease was ending February the 28th- a Friday. He didn’t know what he was going to do, but the Lord was clear on what He wanted me to do. So, the next day I requested a day off of work for a family emergency, and got it for February 27th the next Thursday. Meanwhile, Gage and I had been talking about getting into a committed dating relationship during that time, and I openly shared my fears about my past and my character. I had been a person who would get into a relationship, get bored or uncomfortable, see someone else more interesting and move on. That was the LAST thing I wanted to happen to Gage. He had been such a great friend and support, so gentle and kind and understanding. I couldn’t stand the thought of what I might do to him. I remember him telling me that I was a new creation in Christ and that being saved and a believer now, I was no longer that evil person that just abandoned people the way I used to. I understood in theory, but I was still very afraid. Gage recommended to me making an appointment to go see Sherrill and talk these things through. I had a couple other things I wanted to bring up with her anyway, so I made the appointment. The only free time was a bit before service the 26th- Wednesday.

Well, she and I did meet and she asked me how it was going with Gage. I had been keeping her well informed of how we were and where my heart was. I repeated to her that I knew that I was done with that two years, but I didn’t want to just jump into another relationship just because I could. I had been so anxious about any misstep or slightly off-kilter motive, that I was nearly paranoid of my emotions and that they'd lead to decisions that had nothing to do with wisdom or glorifying God. She was so patient as I worked myself into knots over and over again. After a few of the familiar loops that I’d reason myself through, she said the same thing Gage did. I’m a new creation in Christ, the old me passed away, and I have been made new. I wondered if they had been conspiring recently. But it was true, as much as I struggled with what I had been before, I needed to trust God to give me the grace to live according to His will- including being faithful in a relationship. Whether it was Gage or not, that was a lesson I was going to have to learn somewhere down the line. As we moved on from that subject it came back to my fear that I was moving on too quickly after being single two years. How did I know I was free to stop waiting? When she asked about how our lives and callings might match or differ, I told her plainly about the conversation we had. She asked me point-blank, “Well, do you see yourself being able to live the rest of your life with him?” The thought resounded in me. The silliness, the adventure, discovering the Lord’s will for us together, serving together, the hardships, and the struggles. No one in my mind made all those things seem more beautiful and exciting than he did. My thoughts and feelings manifested themselves in an uncharacteristic girlish giggle, and I might’ve blushed a little. Sherrill laughed at me and exclaimed that I was making her blush just by my reaction to her question, and I think in her mind that sufficed as an answer.

So we needed to wrap up our conversation, but even though I had sort of received answers to most of my reservations, that stupid “when is the waiting truly over?” question was still burning in my head. I might be wanting to move on, but was that what the Lord was wanting for me? “But Sherrill, how do I know when the waiting is over?” She looked at me and said, “Well, WHAT exactly is it that you’re waiting for?” … “Huh.” I didn’t actually know. Good question. I think I was waiting for something like the Angel Gabriel coming to me or something, but that wasn’t highly likely. It would be like waiting for Half-Life 3 to come out: like never. Next to zero percent chance. “Uhhhh… I guess I’m waiting for a green light?” “Well, I don’t see any red lights.” … “Huh…” I was pretty excited. Maybe that’s what it was. An open door to walk through. As we wrapped up to go our separate ways, she laughed and encouraged me to enjoy myself and the time of life I was in. She said not to worry so much, but just to seek the Lord and let joy have its place in my life without agonizing over the things that I couldn’t know. I drove back to work thanking the Lord and thinking about what the next day would bring. It would be February 27th and I would be working on moving all of my brother's worldly possessions from his apartment in Oceanside up to my mother's then-vacant house in Upland. My brother and I had worked out that he would call a moving company to help, but I would meet them at the apartment then lead them and let them into Mom's house to drop off everything for safe-keeping. If I left Bakersfield around 9 am, then I would meet them at 1 pm and we could start packing up everything. I praise Jesus that we didn't have to get a storage unit until later, otherwise this would have never worked. Especially considering what ended up happening.

So Gage went with me to San Diego/ Oceanside. Now, allow me to explain before you pass any judgements. I would've loved if Gage could come. Not only that, but if he was the only one who could so that I could spend time with him and talk privately about the conversation Sherrill and I had, but I knew that it wouldn't be the wisest or the most honorable thing to do. It was tempting because I would basically be setting us up so he could ask me to start dating him, and I could say yes. However, I chose not to go that route because I wanted to have my hands off the situation so I could allow the Lord to control the timing instead of myself. Besides, I needed to leave around 9am and Gage had class that day anyway. So, I contacted all the girlfriends and even girl coworkers I knew to see if anyone was willing or able to make the 4 hour trip at 9am, move everything, then make the trip back in one day. Surprisingly, I had no takers. Next, I contacted all my guy friends and though there were several willing, they all had school or work after 9am. I did not expect Gage at all because I knew he had school at Bakersfield College on Thursdays, but out of desperation and AFTER I had asked all the others, I texted him anyway. I didn't want to drive in a city I didn't know without a navigator and be alone in an apartment with two men (the movers) that I did not know. I received a text back. Gage informed me that his noon class was completely canceled, and his 8am to 10am class got out an hour early that day. At 9am. He would be completely free for the rest of the day, and without a ride home. I was flabbergasted. Then I was overjoyed. Then I was giddy. Then I was nervous. Again, the questions and doubts nagged at me: could I be faithful in a relationship, or would I discard him as soon as I lost interest? Was it really okay for me to move on from waiting in singleness? If that wasn't the case, would I be able to resist my desire to be romantically involved with this guy? Eek!

So, I picked up Gage after his class right around 9. There was an air of exuberance and excitement. The weather was fine, and a road trip just the two of us! His dad wanted him to clean their kitchen before leaving, so we did that and by the time we got some snacks, it was closer to 10. We’d get there around 2, but the movers had a way to get in the apartment apart from my being there. As we merged onto the freeway, we started a tradition that we’ve held onto until this day. We prayed together for traveling mercies, for our conversations to be edifying, for us to have fun even though we had a pretty gigantic task ahead of us, and that the Lord would have His way with our day (oh boy, if we only knew). The first 3 hours went by wonderfully quickly. We just enjoyed one another in conversation, but at the top of the fourth, he asked me how my meeting with Sherrill went the day before. I remembered the green light, but I was still very hesitant. He sensed that I had a very interesting answer judging by my uncomfortable grin and heavy silence, and so he promptly leaned onto the center arm rest and propped his chin in his hand, staring a hole into the side of my head with a big “Well are you going to tell me?” smile on his face. I told him plainly about our conversation. How she didn’t see any reason why I needed to avoid a relationship- especially with him- at that point. How all my hesitations would be taken care of by trusting in Christ. How I needed to relax and quit stressing in general. He leaned back into his chair and didn’t really say much at that point. We drove into Oceanside at about 2 o’clock- an hour late. The movers we scheduled to be there at 1pm, so I suspected that they probably started working on packing by the time we got there (they also had permission to obtain a key from the leasing office on my brother’s behalf). We went up the stairs to the door and knocked. Nothing. They were probably too busy to hear us. I tried the knob. Locked. What?

I feared they must’ve not been able to get in, and by waiting on Gage, we were late to meet the movers, they couldn’t get in and they left, and I had effectively ruined the whole plan. Now what? I thought, Man, I KNEW I should have just trusted the Lord and come by myself. Because I wanted so much for Gage to come, I messed up everything. I don’t know if Gage sensed my panic, but he suggested we head to the management office to see if we could get a key. Yes, let’s do that. We followed the map to the office and picked up the key (the lady didn’t even ask me for ID), and on the way back, Gage asked me, “So, Katrina Dicen Cruz, would you like to go out with me?” I was a little amused that he used a kind of high schoolish vernacular, but I also panicked. I explained to him how I felt that I couldn’t trust myself and I was afraid of hurting him- that was all I ever did in the past. I continued talking about all my fears on the way up the stairs and into the apartment. The process of moving had not even started. Everything was out, nothing was packed, and there was even a coat hanging on a chair as if my brother had just come in from a hard day’s work and began to settle in for the evening. We were going to have a long day ahead of us. What was worse, was that neither of us had money for all the moving boxes we realized that we were going to need. What are we going to do?, I wondered. I had to pause our conversation and call the movers- maybe they (being movers) might have boxes or know how to get some. Plus, where were they? I called the phone number given to me and got nothing but a voicemail. I left a message stating my name and the arrangement that was supposed to have been made. Gage didn’t miss a beat in our conversation, however.

Gage told me plainly that I needed to trust the Lord and give Him all the things I was worrying over- that those were things that, again, I was going to have to learn to do anyhow. He told me to pray and give those things up right then. He wasn’t going to do the praying FOR me, that I needed to do it myself, and he was right. I started to pray, and I told Jesus all the things I was afraid of- the timing, my own selfishness, if this whole thing was or wasn't His will, if I was ready, if Gage was ready, and that I didn’t know what I was doing. I went on like I do, then right as I was about to say, “In Jesus’ name, amen,” my phone started ringing. Conscious of what strange timing that was, I picked up. It was the movers. They were so sorry. The job they were working on was more than they anticipated. They had a third mover with them, but they had to drop him off if we didn’t want to hire him. I figured we could use the extra help. They knew they were about 2 hours behind schedule. Was there anything they could do to make it up to us? “There is! My brother got moved before he could buy boxes and start packing. Can you guys bring moving boxes?” Yes, they could. How big was the place? “It’s a 1 bedroom apartment.” Perfect. Wow, what the heck? I told Gage that the Lord in essence provided us with moving boxes! Also, that the call came right after I was done praying. We marveled at the Lord’s handiwork, but He wasn’t done. We sat on the futon in the living room in silence for a while as I pondered what was happening. What would be my next move if I truly trusted that my Heavenly Father could take care of all the things I just handed to Him in prayer? I would totally start dating Gage. But “what if this?" and “what if that?” started floating around in my head again, and I realized that as odd as it sounded, it would take more faith in the Lord to enter into this relationship then not. That was the selling point. I turned to him. “Willian Gage Gunter the Fourth, I accept.”

His eyes widened, and I thought his smile would split his face. He immediately scooped me into a hug, and we were both laughing. Wow, what is happening right now? Almost as immediately as he hugged me, he grabbed my shoulders, pulled me away, and with those same wide eyes said, “This has to be the first thing we do. Let’s get on our knees.” He slid off the futon onto his knees facing it, and placed his elbows on it with his hands together reminiscent of a school child praying at the side of their bed before going to sleep. Recognizing what he was doing, I followed suit, and soon he took off into giving thanks, asking for wisdom, and many other things, but over all other things, for the Lord to carry out His own will as He pleased. He prayed over our relationship, and I listened to him, agreeing before the Lord that all the things he was saying were things I wanted as well. Gage ended, and I began. I gave thanks for so many things and I asked for so many things. Again, I went on for a good while like I do, then as I ran out of things to pray I was just about to say, “In Jesus’ name, amen,” when this time, we heard a knock at the door. The movers had arrived. Little did they know that their timing was foreordained by God, and perfect for giving us JUST enough time to have our conversations and prayer, and no extra time for idleness and temptation. The three men were there, and they began carrying in folded boxes, tape, and packing plastic wrap. They already looked tired and beat, and we heard how the house before was a nightmare. I felt so bad- now they had this to deal with. Not that they didn’t act like fairly decent individuals, but I couldn’t help be very grateful that Gage was there with me and I wasn’t alone in this apartment in a strange city with three male strangers. We immediately set to work. My brother was able to empty his fridge, but that was about it. Clothes in the drawers, toiletries in the shower, drinks in the cupboards, and so on so forth.

February 27th, a little past 4 pm Gage and I prayed as we entered into a dating relationship. Which meant that we were now officially by western standards a committed couple, and 3 or so hours behind schedule. The afternoon quickly shifted into evening as the 5 of us frantically tried to pack this entire apartment into a giant moving truck and resented the circumstances forced upon us by the U.S. Navy. By about 9:30pm, we finished and entered my mother’s address into our GPSs. Roughly around 11 pm is when we arrived. Gage and I had beat the moving truck there, so we unlocked and went into the empty house with my machete and cleared it of any squatters. She had been gone several months, so there was a slight possibility. With the house secure, we began clearing space in the garage, living room, and den for the incoming load. Shortly thereafter, the poor ragged men and their giant truck arrived, and we started the unpacking process. At close to 1:30 am, the morning of Friday, February 28th, we unloaded the last box from the movers’ truck, and I gave them my brother’s credit card information, and they embarked on the 80 minute drive back to wherever they came from. Gage looked at me, and I looked at him. Well, kind of. Our eyes were blurring in and out of focus as we were standing there, falling asleep on our feet. I began to slap myself and headed for the car to begin the drive back, when Gage suggested (or perhaps pleaded) that we stay and nap for about half an hour before trying to get back on the road. At this point, anything having to do with sleep sounded perfectly reasonable to me. We actually slept for an hour, so at 2:30 am, we got back on the road to begin our 2.5 hour trek so I could be at work in 4 hours. By that time, I began to hear a peculiar sound on the roof. No way.

It had begun to politely drizzle outside in the middle of the night as we got back in the car. I reminded Gage of how it would rain whenever I made it by an important “relationship milestone.” By the time we got onto the freeway however, this polite drizzle became a constant shower. The constant shower gave way to an incessant pounding, and soon the pounding was traded for a hydro-prolific onslaught of death. I tell you, IF you could see out the windows, there was a visible current of water washing down the berms and tilts of the freeway. By the time we got into the mountains, I had slowed to 55 or 60 miles per hour, partially because I couldn’t see out the windshield though the windshield wipers were giving it their all.

We were listening to loud music and trying to have loud conversation to keep ourselves awake when we both felt it. The car went over a particularly deep and long puddle, and we felt the eerie glide that indicated we were hydroplaning. Before that point I had only hydroplaned twice in my life and I remembered what to do, but more importantly, what not to do. Time slowed as I became hyper-sensitive to the feel of my car. Intrinsically, I knew that any attempt to steer the wheel would send us spinning out of control, as would engaging the brakes. The car drifted along in and straight line as if it had its own menacing agenda. My arms tingled with knowing, and my hands gripped the wheel rigidly as I lifted my foot from the accelerator petal to allow us to slow at nature’s leisure. After what seemed like an unjustly long time, I felt the tires grip asphalt again and the vehicle returned its control back over to me. We nearly cried as we gave thanks and praise to God for keeping us from losing control of the car and possibly losing our lives. We talked and talked as much as we could, but inevitably as our energy reserves burned their last, there was a lull in the conversation. My body took over, and I fought to retain control over my eyelids. Atlas for all the strength he had as the fictional strongman who carries the planet on his shoulder could not lift my stupid eyelids. They fluttered shut for a just a moment before the creepy drifting sensation woke me. I had fallen asleep at the wheel and we began to hydroplane again. Even after being shocked from my momentary slumber, my God-given reflexes were to allow the Lord to direct the vehicle as we sat still and knew He was (and is) God. The wheels gripped the road again, but we were both now completely terrified. We lifted our voices and cried out to God again for strength and stamina, for favor, and for Him not to let that happen again. He answered our prayer. With a “no.”

Some people might think that’s cruel of God when He answers "No," to a fairly reasonable request such as the one we were making, but it’s only because you don’t know Him. Often times, you’ll be driving along the freeway of life and scary, bad things happen because the storms of life are blowing. Plus, you’re tired and burnt out because you’ve been working so hard and so long at something that didn’t go according to plan. Life isdraining. But instead of powering through it, He just wants you to pull over and rest with Him for a while. Soon, He breaks the dawn, calms the storm, and calls you back out on the road again- but only after you received the rest He has for you. By the way, Matthew 11:28- Jesus gives us proper spiritual, physical, emotional, mental, and whatever else kind of rest there is. But if we disobey His call to rest, we pretty much end up spinning our lives out of control. Now going a solid 55 miles per hour, we had hydroplaned several different times and I fell asleep at the wheel several different times. I told Gage, “I can’t do this anymore. I’m too tired to stay awake and the adrenaline spikes are killing me. I have to pull over.” He heartily agreed, and we took the exit into Santa Clarita. I knew the place well enough to find a hotel parking lot and pull into a space next to the side of the building. The rain was thundering on the metal roof of the car to the extent that it was nearly deafening. The wind was thrashing the trees outside, and I beheld the palms dancing like huge menacing wacky inflatable arm-flailing tube men. We were beyond grateful that the car was parked and we could now rest. It was 4:30 am.

I texted my boss telling her that I was stranded on the Grapevine and probably couldn’t make it in on time, then took that time to sleep however long we could. I remember waking to dawn breaking, a quieter consistent pattering on the car roof, and the palm trees swaying like those in a chill Hawaiian breeze. It was 6:30 am, and we were able to drive at a bold 60 miles per hour back down the Grapevine. It’s difficult to recall the last leg of our relationship’s maiden voyage, but I believe I was able to get him to his apartment close to 10 am, and I went home, took a very needed shower, and drove myself to work arriving around 12 pm- 5 and a half hours late. I remember seeing rain pouring over different parts of Bakersfield. Mine and Gage’s little rainstorm seemed to have followed us home where it was pouring water on a land that was in season of drought. Looking back on that whole debacle, I noted the perfect clock-work accurate timing of everything. The conversation the Wednesday before, the way he was the only one who was able to come with me that Thursday, how we were an hour late but still there was the perfect amount of time for me to pray over my fears, just enough time for Gage and I to pray over our relationship before having to begin packing, the got the boxes we needed, we got over to Mom’s house to unload and sleep a little before getting exhausted and stranded on the Grapevine, then able to get home the next day. It didn’t seem to be perfect, but it was so perfect. The Lord didn’t leave us any time to do anything stupid, just enough time to talk and pray over what we needed to. He protected us from ourselves then provided us with a place and time to talk everything we needed over while also helping my brother. That’s a story that whenever I recount it, I recall the goodness and faithfulness of God as He provided perfectly wherever He guided us. This lesson will be integral to preserving and persevering in our marriage: Serve God. He'll mind the rest.

The storybook-style beginning didn't continue, however. This is hard to tell without including and incriminating others, so forgive the vague details as I attempt to tastefully recount a very bitter, sad time. I realize now this is why it took another 3 years to recognize that this was the man I was to marry. I blamed our relationship for my backsliding & depression for those 3 years, and I doubted that God intended us to marry. If Gage tried to propose any time before February 2017, I don’t think I could've said yes. For 3 years I prayed about what to do, and decided that I wanted solid Scriptural confirmation before I either broke up with him or married him. I wasn’t going to move otherwise, and that crazy man KNEW that. Before that point, I had been saved & walking with Christ for a few years. During that time, I enjoyed great spiritual growth, and I was a zealous believer. I was serving in a few ministries, was boldly sharing my faith regularly, and I had a love for the Lord that felt strong and deep- like I would do anything for Him. He was everything I needed and more. My prayer request for myself often times would be that I would maintain a zealous passion for doing the Lord’s work. Oddly enough, I could feel God warning me that something was wrong in asking for that, but I shrugged it off. My motives were slightly amiss and He was about to reset something that wasn’t growing right in my life. But it took the wind right out of my sails. There were events happening in my family, in our church, and in our circle of friends that were all very painful. Additionally, there was some disapproval of our relationship that in certain ways wasn’t entirely undeserved. They disapproved of the timing & that killed me, and although I couldn’t shoulder the blame for the events going on in family and church, this new relationship was the one thing where I did have some modicum of control, and in the desire to blame myself, this was the only thing I could assume I did wrong.

All the praying we had done, all the things the Lord had set in order, all the joy we had in how He had worked it all together, all seemed a moot point. I thought I had misheard God and either jumped in too early as I feared, or worse, was seeing a man I had no business being with. Everything was my fault, and didn’t hear much disagreement with that sentiment. Guilt and shame began to dominate my heart and my mind. It overshadowed everything I did and felt. I woke up that way and I went to sleep that way. It crept into my work life, ministry, and all my interactions. I eased into the deepest depression I had ever experienced. I soon developed a numbness to things that had brought be joy before. I began to neglect the ministries I had been entrusted with, and more guilt piled up. I knew I had reached a new low when an atheist yelled at me in disgust for my negative attitude. I never became suicidal, but I would tell the Lord often that I would like for this to be over and to please take me home to be with Him- existence itself became too much a burden. But it was all deserved (I thought). I had ruined friendships all because I couldn’t help myself and just HAD to jump into another wrong relationship. Although I was told later that things weren’t really my fault after all, the damage was done. No amount of taking back what was said by anyone was going to undo the new mindset I had sunk myself into. Now, notice I said that I “eased” myself into depression and I “sunk myself” into a new mindset. As easy as it would be to call myself the victim of people or of circumstances, I must point out that in my life at this time I was in sin for letting myself even go there in the first place. Yes, things happen. Yes, I let down others. But for me, there was no reason I should have let the guilt win and allowed my joy to be swallowed up in grief. I am a Christian. For us, death itself is swallowed up in victory, it is not the other way around.

I began to doubt the validity & goodness of our relationship. But where else would I go? I had made things awkward between in my usual friendships, & those willing to talk were not people I wanted to talk to. When I should've sought the Lord, I just hung out with Gage, who although sweet, patient, kind, merciful, supportive, and loving- was only a human, and didn't have the answers to my problems. It’s hard to seek the Lord. Sometimes, it’s difficult for me to go to Jesus for something when an easier, more immediate thing is available. There’s nothing difficult about saying a prayer and reading the Bible, but seeking God’s will is more involved than that. There’s a deliberate setting of heart & mind to ask for and explore the many facets to something with God in conversation, then there’s the purposeful opening and softening of heart & mind to read the Scripture and allow Him to sort of highlight and draw our attention to a passage, causing us to understand it in a way that applies to our situation without sacrificing the meaning of the verses in context. This process can take minutes and it can take years. Either He answers immediately, bit by bit, or He lets you ask over and over before He gives it to you because He’s trying to develop something in you. In my case, asking Him for His comfort in the midst of these painful issues seemed like a huge task with no guarantee of immediate success, so instead I went to Gage. We made some huge mistakes and sinned in grievous ways because of it. Trust me, I understand why we make excuses not to go to God. However, if you’ve walked with Him genuinely for more than a week, you know any excuse is not just stupid, but is a lie from the very pit of Hell. He sacrificed His Son for us. He allowed Himself to be crucified for us. How could we think that He won’t give us what we need, exactly when and HOW we need it? We know from experience that trying to gain what we need from anything else will eventually lead to more destruction.

I let my ministry, joy, zeal, and my very relationship with my lovely and faithful Lord & Savior dwindle down to a pathetic trickle- and wonder why I was depressed? We know why. What happens when you unplug a lamp from an outlet or deprive a flame of oxygen? Extinguishment. And so, I haven’t been quite the same since. There are times where I look back and I wonder what happened to the girl who was so excited to share her Savior with the world. My hope is not to look back, however. It is to look upwards & on to what Christ has for me next, because with His redemptive power, He can take the time I’ve wasted and restore it to me so I can grow stronger, help others, and show off His glory and goodness.

As an aside within an aside, I want to share something kind of odd. I know it might not resonate with many, but here goes: One particularly awful day, I was taking out a bit of misplaced anger on my wonderfully sweet and sensitive Gage. He already knew I doubted from time-to-time if we should be together, but as he worded it, he had already made up his mind that I (of all crazies) was the woman he had been praying for since childhood. I had also stopped talking to Jesus regularly and pretty much only stopped to thank Him for meals. When your relationship is more vibrant with a regular human than with Jesus, you’ve got a problem. But I was still trying to find my way by listening to sermons about things I was trying to sort out. I was trying to shine the Bible flashlight with nearly dead prayer batteries. One thing I've really wanted was to seek God’s perfect will. He’s like a parent. A parent really wants you to learn well & get straight A's but sometimes as a parent, you just have to settle with 5 straight days without detention. It’s not that He loves you any less for getting detention, but you certainly don’t make Him proud and you kinda put some tension on the relationship. My aim in life (not that I was really attaining it) was to be that person who sought the spiritual straight A’s, so to speak. I was listening to a sermon on that pesky passage in 1 Corinthians 7 that says married people do WELL, as far as seeking & glorifying God, but the one who doesn’t marry and instead devotes all of their time, energy, and resources to growing God’s kingdom does BETTER. So, what did straight-A’s-wannabe-C-average Kat get bent out of shape about? I was straight up mad at God for giving me the desire to be married. I was doomed to perhaps do “well” but by design, I would never be able to obtain “better.” Though I was failing in my relationship with God, my heart still wanted to give Him this “better” because after all, isn’t life’s highest goal to please and glorify God?

Gage and I were texting while I was in this angry, depressed, and frustrated kind of mood. Bad move on my part. Through conversation, I told Gage that I really didn’t want to get married or see the point in it. Love hurts, people let you down, you let down other people, and so life should just be me and Jesus- no third party. Surprisingly no, Gage didn’t not break it off with me right then. They say a man is lucky to find a wife, but in our case I am the lucky one. He instead tried to send me Scripture- that classic Old Testament passage that it’s not good for man to be alone without a wife, but then I shot back the verse in Corinthians saying it’s better to remain unmarried. He didn’t know how to answer that, but the Lord told Him very clearly not to. Later, I asked Gage how He knew the Lord was telling him to back off and he described it saying it felt kind of like a Jedi Mind Trick. This feeling came over him suddenly as he was praying, and he just knew "I'm not supposed to talk to her." Jesus asked Gage to leave me to Him. Well, Gage struggled, wanting to help me, but he knew he couldn’t do what Jesus could. He texted back that he was going to sleep, that he loved me, and that he would be praying for me. Well, it was as if Jesus was sitting right there waiting for me to put down my phone and talk to Him. I did put it down, and in my soul I turned to face Him and said, “Fine. You wanted to talk? Let’s talk.” Can I interject that it’s amazing that I haven’t been struck by lightning bolts?

I proceeded to pour out my frustration & questions. Why does this verse say marriage is good, and this one say marriage in inferior? Why do I have to be someone who needs to be attached to another sinner? Why can’t it just be just me & Jesus? If marriage hinders us from a more productive & flexible Christian life, then aren’t I better off without marriage? In response to this particular question, He did something that was quite arresting. First, He dropped a concept into my mind. One we Christians know well: the Bride of Christ. How His church is His bride in the sense that He is committed to us in care, provision, forgiveness, love, authority, and eternity. Then He showed me His tortured body on the cross signifying the great length He went to rescue & save us wretches for Himself, and while I was seeing this He answered me with a question: “Wouldn’t I have been better off without ‘marriage’?” Even writing this now, I am moved to tears, but in the state I was then I held them back, and fired off another shot- but with less gusto. “Well, Lord,” I said, anger now disarmed, but sadness and frustration still tossing within me, “even so, You’re perfect. Being married to You is enough, right? You show us unconditional love, kindness, and mercy. But I’ll be married to another sinner.” He pointed out the showing mercy, love, kindness, and forgiveness part, and said, “Good. Then it works both ways.” I understood He meant instead of just receiving love and forgiveness, in marriage you also learn to give it too. Now thoroughly disarmed and frustration dissipated, I brokenly asked the last question in my deep sadness. “But Lord, what about ‘better’? If I am to marry, I have to settle for doing ‘well.’ If it’s just me and You, then I could be so much more available to You, and I will be able to DO so much more for You. Why wouldn’t You want that?” I sensed hurt in Him, and He said, “Since WHEN has your worth to Me EVER been based off of what you can do?” I cried.

I hadn’t forgotten THAT He loved me; I forgot how MUCH He loves me. I had fallen into a way of thinking that I get wrapped up in still occasionally. While straight A’s are great and all, He loves me just the same, and no amount of do-gooding is going to make Him love me more. He can’t love me more than He does, which is infinitely. If straight C’s is legitimately the best I can do with all my effort and might, then He is pleased just as much with my “well” as anyone’s “better.”

The other important thing I learned is a lesson that, again, is specifically for that target audience I was referring to earlier. There are Christian kids my age that are on fire for the Lord and want to sacrifice everything for Him who gave it all for us and, like me, think or thought that a married person’s calling is worth less than a single person’s because a single person can DO more. I discovered it’s not worth less, it’s worth different. Apples to oranges, folks. One of the main reasons for sanctification is so that we can be conformed into the character of Christ. Marrying someone is the perfect way to discover HOW to love, live with, forgive, be kind to, prefer, show mercy to, and care affectionately, uncompromisingly, unconditionally for a sinner. If that’s not being Christ-like, then I’m a 7 foot Scandinavian basketball player. Furthermore, WHEN we fail at this, we see our need for God’s grace and hopefully grow in it. Capeesh? That’s one of the many things I learned in this last season of my life being together with Gage. God used my season of doubting to show me the answers to questions I never would have asked if I never doubted. I think He kind of enjoys it when we have problems and ask Him questions. It makes for really good heart-to-heart conversations with Him. He doesn’t shy away from questions, because those are conversations that grow our faith & trust in Him. Just... be more reasonable and polite than I was, okay? I now realize through all of that trouble and trial, that it wasn’t that I made the wrong decision in choosing Gage. It wasn’t even the wrong timing. It was that I chose to deal with my hardships in the wrong way. The Father in His amazing timing waited this long to show me something, and teach me in a way I’d never forget, and now I KNOW. Seek God. It’s hard, it’s tricky, it's worth it. Now, how on earth with all my doubt and uncertainty did I all of the sudden come to the conclusion that could marry Gage? Hold on tight.

So, in November 2016, I was going through the book of Jeremiah (literally awesome book). Gage and I were doing very well. The struggles has largely passed, and we had settled into a safe set of boundaries that allowed us to continue in and maintain our purity. Because of this, and a general desire to seek the Lord, my relationship with the Lord had largely mended, although not completely as it had been. I wasn't as bold and daring, but I wasn't as naïve and ignorant either. I learned lessons that I still share with other girls (and sometimes guys) till this day. One such lesson being that temptation is a slippery slope that leads to a miry pit called sin. Wisdom is the fence that you set ten feet away from where the slope starts, and grace is the rope you climb desperately if you find yourself slipping. Neglecting the fence, the slope, and the rope are not advisable. Neglecting to flee temptation, neglecting wisdom in avoiding temptation, and neglecting the grace God gives us to choose to turn and run from getting into sin are all things that we should be against and guiding others away from. Unless you just love picking up unnecessarily broken pieces.

I was still overly agonized about finding God’s will for us. We had been through quite a lot together and I was basically part of his family at that point, but no matter how deep the connection, if God required me to sacrifice it, I wanted to be obedient. I had come to the point where I had listened to so many views and sermons and been through so much Scripture about how to determine God's will for one's “love life” that I had found two categories. The most traditionally popular category is the one that I like to refer to as the “Calvinist” view on marriage or “The One” Theology: your spouse is predestined to marry you, God has prearranged someone for you, you have only to single-mindedly serve Him until He eventually reveals to you who that person is. But if you pick wrong, you've kind of ruined everything. The other view that seems to be gaining popularity is the “(Theologically) Armenian” dating doctrine: As long as you are seeking God and the other person is a Christian, the opposite sex, and has similar convictions to yours, great! God doesn't really care too much about what year, make, and model you marry, so pick whoever. So I started to pray for understanding. Which was it? Do I pray for confirmation if Gage is “The One” or do I pray for my own wisdom as I select a match for myself from all the options given? OR was there a third option? A happy medium, perhaps? Another option I haven't thought of?

For Thanksgiving, Gage and I flew up to Washington to see his mom. It was right after a Women's Ministry Retreat where I got to connect with and worship God more freely and deeply than I had in years. He used the retreat to clear a lot of debris out of the channels of my heart to be able to receive the answers I was seeking. As I mentioned earlier, I was reading through Jeremiah the major prophet's book systematically day-by-day. While I was there in Washington using my free time to seek God, there came a part in the book of Jeremiah where Jeremiah received a word from the Lord. Later on, the word he got from God came true, and so he knew it was God's message and not a random figment of his imagination or desire. When I was praying for whether to pray for confirmation or for wisdom, I happened to be going through that book in that section. I enjoyed some commentary on that passage and surmised that I had my answer: I was to begin to pray to God for confirmation. “The One” theology it is, I guess. So I began to pray for confirmation as to whether or not Gage was “The One.” After we came back rested from Washington, we jumped back into the hustle and bustle of church and work life, and in the midst of all the serving, I prayed that God would give me proof from the Scriptures that I was to marry Gage. Or not. Sometime around then, we had a major prayer answered. We had asked the Lord on several occasions to provide us with a mentor couple- people who had been walking with the Lord for some time, who's devotion to God was well-established, and who would be willing to walk us through the peculiarities of submitting your love life unto Christ.

I knew the Lord was trying to set me up to begin talking to a sweet lady named Kerri- she happened to be my mentor selected for me through the purity series us girls had gone through earlier, she happened to be my discipleship group leader after that, and she happened to be on my right at the women's retreat when we were all asked to give our phone numbers to the lady sitting on our left. I received her phone number although I already had it, and my assignment was to call her sometime and catch up after retreat. I asked on New Year's Eve if she'd be willing to meet with me regularly to talk about life, and she said she'd check in with her husband (the youth pastor, Mike B.) as to what their family schedule looked like. What is it about November, New Year's, and February? They are constantly a theme and pattern through this whole story. And rain. We were several years into one of the most severe droughts that I personally had ever seen. It was always in the news, and was the subject of many prayer requests in those days. Later on in January on a Wednesday night, Mike stopped Gage and told him that us kids were to show up to his house the following Tuesday at 6:30pm. They wished to take us under their wings in couple discipleship, and we were starting immediately. I was so excited I threw my water bottle against the ground several times to expend my sudden burst of excitable energy. I'm sure I startled some unaware bystander. I was very excited. We thanked the Lord right where we stood and laughed together in disbelief and relief. But this still was not the Scriptural confirmation I believed I was to continue seeking- just a REALLY good sign. Plus it had been raining lately- raining during a drought, just so you know.

That following Tuesday, we went over to Mike and Kerri's house. They asked us where we were in our relationship. I told them frankly all that I have told you. I was looking for confirmation. I wouldn't say they laughed, but there was a little bit of that, “Oh, naïve child. How sweet and innocent you are,” kinda vibe going on. Mike proceeded to tell us about one of his daughters and her decision having to chose what college to go to. An obviously amoral decision, but vastly important, nonetheless. She fretted and fretted over what God’s will was until finally wishing to relieve her of her burden, Mike asked her, “How’s your relationship with Christ?” “Better than ever,” was the reply he recounted. “Then just make the decision,” was the fatherly advice. The reasoning was this: in Psalm 1, it speaks of the man who meditates day and night on God and His word, and as long as one does and honors that, then whatever the man does is made to prosper. Christ said Himself that His burden was light as long as you are yoked with Him as oxen are yoked together. She wasn't meant to be as burdened and agonized as she was, and neither was I. Gage, who knew exactly the prayer process I was going through whirled around to face me, eyes wide, grinning, and eyebrows raised so high they threatened to disappear off his forehead into his hair. “Did you hear that?” I heard it. I pondered it that night as we drive home together. We talked about it until we eventually reached his apartment and parted ways for the evening. Was that the Scriptural confirmation I was looking for? It was a bible verse after all. But as I prayed and thought about it, I knew that it wasn't definitively settled in my heart they way things are when God settles them. I kept seeking.

Find out next time when Kat has time to write! See you then!