It's the fall of 2024, yet another lonely year is about to end. I wake up to a phone call. It’s a close friend who is also a drummer. He has a proposition — impressed by my skills on the soundboard, his older brother’s home church in Phoenix wants to fly me out for a weekend conference. I am not overjoyed. I have plans to work and this would mean abandoning them. I try to stall, but knowing how stubborn he is, I know he won’t quit. He adds his brother to the call. Out of great respect, I agree. Two months go by…nothing. My plan worked? Another call comes. They buy the flight, get me a place to stay, and next thing I know we’re setting things up for the conference. The first night is a success. God shows up mightily. One friend in the band mentions there is a girl — single, one of a kind, loves God dearly, very modest, similar interests, and truly ready to be a wife to the right man. I hesitate. I say I’m not ready. There are things I need to sort out before looking for “The One.” I try stalling again. Day 2 of the conference — another amazing day with a strong move of God. My confidence is up, but still no thoughts of approaching her. My close friend can’t stop talking about her character. We go back and forth as I assure him I am in no position, especially with her reputation. Then the other band mate comes out of nowhere with this timid, gentle, profoundly elegant and graceful young lady. They introduce us and disappear. I am nervous. It is my last chance. We make small talk and she asks where I’m from. As a proud San Franciscan, I ask if she’s ever been. It is a plot — either way, I insist on getting her number to show her around. I’d never done this before. It is a shot in the dark. Right as I am about to lay out my plan, she says she has to leave. I convince myself it isn’t meant to be. We exchange well wishes as the church doors close and the night fades away. Three weeks go by and I see a friend request on my Instagram. My page is private — unless searched by name, my account shouldn’t come up. I accept and reply, “I didn’t know I was this easy to find.” She later confesses she assumed I was married since all my friends at the conference were. I assure her I am not. We take a few days to get to know each other, but I make my intentions clear. I’m not looking for anything but a wife and a partner for life — my pursuit isn’t merely for the temporary. She agrees. With wisdom I can’t explain, I ask that we fast and pray, seeking God’s guidance individually — silencing the noise to focus on what He has planned for each of our lives, be it unified or else. To this day there couldn’t have been a better decision than that. It is a Monday morning, the first of our 7-day journey. As I finish my morning prayer, I hear a voice — “Proverbs 31.” I shrug it off. The voice won’t leave. So I read it. Lo and behold, in the very last chapter of the book of wisdom, every single line is a direct description of her. I can’t believe what I see. Here I am, dumbfounded by all the meaning, wisdom, and truth I had missed. I decide then and there — this is the woman I want to marry, build a home with, grow old with, laugh and cry with, and serve with. I wouldn’t have had it any other way. Over 18 months we spend many nights on FaceTime — WhatsApp video because I have an Android, lol — travel back and forth, and serve together every chance we get. Any distance is long distance, especially with how we’ve enjoyed each other’s company. As we start this new journey, with so many uncertainties, we put all our hope in the One who brought us together — who displays the true meaning of love and the true standard of marriage: Jesus. P.S. Mary later confesses she couldn’t get me out of her head since the day she saw me and went to great lengths to find my Instagram. The close friend that made me fly out to Phoenix is also my best man, Jossy.