Twenty-seven years ago today, I asked you to marry me.
God told me to ask you – really.
It’s one of the rare instances in my life when God clearly led me.
Usually I see God working in the rearview mirror more than through the windshield, but in your case He made it very clear what I was supposed to do.
You were the one – God knew it and made sure I knew it.
We met after God led you to College Park Church shortly after you moved to Indy.
I noticed you the very first Sunday you walked in.
I just about broke my neck trying to watch you without it being obvious.
You sat with a married couple I knew.
After the service – which I didn’t pay much attention to – you left pretty quickly.
I made a beeline for the wife to find out what she found out.
What’s her name?  Is she single?  Does she live around here?  Do you think she’ll come back?
You came back and we had our first date a few months later (I didn’t move too fast, I guess).
When I came to pick you up for the date, you answered the door with wet hair and told me you weren’t ready yet and you’d be out in a minute.
I was floored.
You were secure enough on a first date to come to the door that way and not worry about it.
I loved it.  You had me at wet hair.
You let me know during the date that the next day was your birthday.
The next day I didn’t do anything to acknowledge it (we’d only had one date!).
Big mistake, as I found out later.  You LIKE your birthday.
Even so, we dated for the next seventeen months.
Well, we mostly dated.
We actually broke up twice and had a somewhat stormy courtship all around.
But we made it.  And at some point God made it very clear that I was to marry you.
So, on September 20, 1990, I made plans for us to have dinner at our favorite Italian restaurant.
I sent you a dozen yellow roses earlier in the day just because – or so you thought.
I brought you a cross necklace when I picked you up – something you’d wanted for a long time.
We went to dinner and you noticed that I didn’t seem to have much of an appetite.
After dinner, we went back to my apartment and sat on the couch with Ravel playing on the stereo.
I didn’t get down on one knee (you asked me later why I didn’t).
I pulled out the ring, told you I loved you, and asked you to marry me.
At first you didn’t answer.
You kind of looked at me with a stunned smile on your face.
Then you said, “Yes!”
And we’ve been together ever since.
I’ve never once questioned if it was the right decision – I can say that honestly.
God superintended it.
And He gave me a wife I’ve thanked Him for repeatedly through the years.
What’s more, even today, all these years later, I have no doubt that if I didn’t know you, I’d still notice you in a room of a few hundred people just like I did the first time.
I look at you sometimes and think, “She really is stunning.  And she’s my wife!”
Twenty-seven years!
What a great decision.
What a good God.
I would absolutely do it all over again.