Welcome! We’re glad you’re here to celebrate our love, family, and joy of beginning this next chapter filled with gratitude, laughter, and faith.

Believe it or not, our story began online—on the truly atrocious website, Plenty of Fish. What brought us together wasn’t romance at first, but survival. We bonded over the chaos of online dating: catfishing tales, red flags disguised as charm, verbal sparring matches, and the general absurdity of it all. Beneath the humor, though, we were both recovering—healing from relationships that had left us guarded, doubtful, and quietly resigned to the idea that single life might simply be our future. Both of us were deep in the trenches of single parenting, carrying responsibility, fatigue, and prayer requests we didn’t always say out loud. We were thankful for adult conversation that didn’t revolve around meal prepping, after-school schedules, or conflict mediation. Expectations were low. Faith was present—but cautious. Mostly, we were just asking God for a little rest. That rest turned into a meeting at Roger Brown’s in Portsmouth—our first date, or perhaps more honestly, our first step of obedience to try again. Meghan arrived late (as is unfortunate tradition), and David was already there, waiting. When we finally saw one another, there was immediate relief: no catfishing, no pretending—just two real people, smiling, dimples included. Conversation flowed with ease. Laughter followed. Hours passed unnoticed until chairs were being stacked and the restaurant had nearly emptied. When we asked the server what time they closed, she smiled and said, “Now—but we all agreed in the back that you two were so cute, we didn’t want to interrupt.” We stepped into the night grateful, unaware that God was already doing more than we had asked. David offered to walk Meghan to her car. When she pointed it out, he kept walking—and talking. Happy to follow something unexpected, Meghan followed him. We wandered for hours through downtown Portsmouth, lost in conversation and time. Passing a dark alley, Meghan finally joked, “So…is this where you kill me?” David laughed, “I thought YOU were going to kill ME! When are we getting to your car?” Neither of us had been paying attention—only listening, only being present. Both later admitted thinking, "I could totally die, but this conversation is worth it." Eventually, we confirmed that neither of us was a serial killer, and Meghan made it safely to her car—again. Later that night, David called to confess he had bought flowers but didn’t want to seem overzealous—especially if Meghan planned to “ghost” him. We met again that same night so he could give her the flowers and we could name what we both felt: gratitude, peace, and surprise. In the days that followed, we kept meeting, lingering until places closed, talking as if we had been given divine permission to exhale. What began as relief became friendship. What became friendship quietly blossomed into love. A love shaped by grace. Rooted in faith. Marked by laughter, healing, and the miracle of finding someone worth trusting again—proof that God still writes better stories than we ever could.