This is the story of a Frisbee girl and a Frisbee boy—two people who had no idea that a few flicks of a disc would be the beginning of forever. Hannah almost skipped CSU’s Ultimate Frisbee tryouts that day. She’d just had lunch with a mentor and shared how nervous she was to go—a tall Black woman stepping into what she assumed would be a sea of white guys who might not understand why she was there. But something in her heart said, go anyway. Kaiden was sitting on the grass tying his shoes when he saw her for the first time. He had to crane his neck just to see her face—“like sitting in the front row of a movie theater,” he’d later say. She was tall, funny, and unmissably bold. She stood out. Not just because of her presence, but because she carried herself like someone who meant something. And he noticed. Over the next few weeks, they kept crossing paths—at practices, team hangouts, and long Frisbee-filled weekends. Kaiden helped Hannah re-learn how to throw, encouraged her when she missed a catch, and invited her to Swensen’s with some teammates. She didn’t even like Swensen’s, but she went anyway. She called shotgun without hesitation—and sliding into the front seat of Kaiden’s car already felt strangely right. Like it had always been her seat. They started texting—at first about little things, then about life. When Kaiden was struggling in nursing school and discouraged after not doing well in a class, Hannah reminded him that struggling doesn’t make you a failure. She told him he was strong enough to push through. That moment stayed with him. Later, he’d tell her that was when he started falling. For Hannah, it came in layers. One day, Kaiden showed up with cannolis because she’d had a rough time. It was such a simple gesture—but it meant more than she could explain. “I rarely buy gifts for people,” he told her. “But I wanted to for you.” From there, the friendship grew into something more. Late-night drives, shared playlists, laughing about weird food icks and odd pet peeves. Kaiden’s music—a mix of metal, rock, and underground hip-hop—caught her off guard in the best way. It was unexpected. And unexpectedly perfect. Their lives hadn’t looked the same—different upbringings, different stories—but they fit. “Like puzzle pieces,” Kaiden says. Even when they argued or stumbled, something about the love between them always helped them grow. There were sweet nights watching movies that mattered to one another. Countless little things that turned into everything. Kaiden made Hannah feel seen. Hannah reminded Kaiden who he was capable of becoming. And one day, after a long tournament, she slid into that front seat again, and everything clicked. It wasn’t just comfort anymore. It was home. That Frisbee girl and that Frisbee boy? They’re getting married. And they know—without a doubt—that God wrote this love story long before either of them knew how it would begin. ⸻ “But whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.” — John 4:14 “No one has ever seen God; but if we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us.” — 1 John 4:12