...and it wasn't at all romantic, because that would have been weird. He was one of the campers, and I was a camp counselor - possibly even his? Honestly, we don't remember, so let's skip this part. Fast forward about ten years. I'd just moved back home from Laos a couple weeks prior and was visiting my sister for the weekend. He was her church member and we were all gathered for a church BBQ. We were both preoccupied at the time and didn't talk much. Skip this part, too. Fast forward three months for the big a-ha! moment: I was at my sister's baby shower, something her church put on for her. I was sitting alone, apparently, and he was being nice, apparently. He sat next to me. I pulled out my phone and very un-charmingly showed him a 10-minute long video about Laos. He watched the whole thing and then ended up offering to drive up to Sacramento the following week to help me film something for work.
The filming project was complicated and we spent close to 15 hours troubleshooting but through it, we saw that we worked and communicated exceptionally well. We were an instantaneous team. Kismet. We kept talking, in my mind as friends with the potential to become great friends. One day, we were driving somewhere and in true, unabashed David fashion, he pulled out his GoPro and said something crazy to it. Something along the lines of: "I think Sarah and I are going to get married." I was taken aback, kind of mortified, and didn't say much or take it seriously. Later, he reiterated it a little more elegantly and in the months following, I saw him for who he was: an answer to prayer; literally the specific person I had been praying for: a man who limitlessly loves and lives for God.
That whole thing about "when you know, you know"...in our case, it's true. We knew each other was a gift - a timely and perfect gift. We've been taking each day in faith, thankfulness, and prayer, knowing that a life lived together and led by Christ and His love would be a better and more challenging adventure than any we could have hoped for.