Today is a special day. On this day, December 30, 1995, I met my husband! Oh, what a year that followed! I call it my year of grace. I broke all my personal life rules of wisdom and decorum that year, and the Lord shielded me in my recklessness.
My hero earned his title right from the beginning. A girlfriend of mine wanted me to meet her boyfriend for scrutiny. My sister and I had just moved from the Sacramento area to San Francisco with our mom. Home life was really, really bad at the time, so a day out with friends was a welcome relief for me. To keep the numbers even, my friend’s beaux brought a friend as well: my future husband.
The day of romping around San Francisco was great fun—lighthearted and silly. I needed it. They brought me back to the house and witnessed the turmoil in which I was surviving, my to my chagrin. I desperately ushered them back to Sacramento—and away from my house—but not before we made plans to get together for New Years Eve.
The next day my sister and I headed to Folsom to hang out with our old friends. I went to a party at my friend’s house and got to see both high school friends I hadn’t seen in years and my new friend who, I had to admit, was pretty cute.
As I remember those first days and weeks, traveling from Folsom to San Francisco, to my sister’s in French Camp and my dad’s in Sparks, I sit back in awe of my Lord’s provision. My future husband and I threw caution to the wind, both sporting old and fresh bruises from our respective home lives. My own friends told my hero to stay clear of me because I was damaged.
But he was my hero. He made me laugh on my darkest days. He stood by me when no one else would. He patiently watched me heal. I have never been so vulnerable and so safe with another human. He has never rejected me, even when I have been at my worst.
And it all began on the penultimate day of the year! It is a very special day.