(This is Part 3 of our story. Our marriage.)
Besides, I met my
current husband while I was working at the large law firm....
My husband was an
employee of my client. We met
after he avoided me for months. I
was representing the company where he worked as their controller (the money
guy). He hated attorneys and made
it a point to be obnoxious to me when I called to try to set up an appointment
to answer questions about an accident involving one of the company’s truck
drivers, who no longer worked for the company.
Finally, we
reached a deadline and he could no longer put me off. Needless to say, I wasn’t expecting to find love when we
finally met to answer mundane questions about an accident he knew nothing
about.
But, long story
short: After pulling an
all-nighter to write an appeal brief to the Alabama Supreme Court, I arrived
almost comatose in my $300 Ralph Lauren jacket and an expensive black designer
skirt to my future husband’s office. In my defense, that was the 1980’s when I
was a YUPpie (young urban professional) with plenty of money, lots of credit,
good taste, and no other obligations except my house, my dog and two cats. Apparently some of my philanthropic
ideas and fears of being labeled rich weren’t that disturbing to me during this
time. But as He always does, God used that period to teach me something about
giving up my hard-earned money for something better.
Anyway, my future
husband and I went through the pleasantries of introducing ourselves and I
feigned interest in whatever I saw that allowed me to start a conversation so
that we could get to the business of answering questions. I don’t know at what point he knew he
was going to marry me – but apparently he had that revelation during that
initial meeting, because he told his father about it within 3 weeks of meeting
me.
Fortunately, he
didn’t let me in on his crazy thoughts because I would have run the other
way. I was in love with someone
else who had recently dumped me and I was waiting on him to come to his senses. But God has a sense of humor and he
knew the right man for me to marry.
On the way out
the door I commented on a “Tide Pride” plaque hanging on his wall. The legendary Auburn/Alabama Iron Bowl
was scheduled for that weekend and my keen legal mind led me to believe he
might be a Bama fan! That was the
opening he was looking for. He
mentioned that he had an extra ticket and wanted to know if I wanted to go with
him.
Floored and
surprised, I actually had to call our office manager at the law firm to find
out if it was okay for me to go to the game with a client. Female attorneys were a relatively new
breed in Alabama in the late 1980’s and I had no idea what was allowed. Apparently, it was okay. But I made it clear this was not a date. Just a game. And to be sure, I arranged for my best friend from college
(who – coincidentally -- lived in Birmingham) to have “plans with me” for 6:00
p.m. so I would have an excuse to end the day early.
So we went to the
game and all I can remember is struggling to get up the long stairs at the
stadium because I had just run 5 miles in the Turkey Trot race the morning
before. I was in excruciating pain
and I didn’t want him to know because he was running 10 miles a day around that
time and I didn’t want to look like a wimp! I still had no romantic interest whatsoever. But he had enough for both of us and
was smart enough to remain low-key.
He was a nice guy and I felt like it was okay to cancel my 6:00 p.m.
escape plan. The rest is history.
Oh, except for
the fact that we lived together before we got married. He had been married before too. We were both technically Christians –
but neither of us lived a life that allowed anyone to know that. We didn’t consider ourselves living in
sin. Not many of my children know
this fact. It isn’t a secret, but
it isn’t something we are proud to announce. Up to this point, we have told
each of them on a need to know basis.
We now think
differently about the impact of our decision at that time! But many of my adult children who claim
to be Christians have fallen into the same trap of believing that there is no
harm in living together before marriage.
We tell them our story and explain what we now understand. But we also know that sometimes, our
adult kids have to learn lessons directly from God. I trust that God will use their situations for his good.
On June 3, 1989, approximately 6 months after we first
met – we eloped at sunset on a beautiful yacht in the middle of the Gulf of
Mexico. As I am making my way down
the narrow isle from the stern to the bow with my father beside me, I had my
first real experience with the God I now know.
I considered
myself a Christian, but not one who lived my life any differently than anyone
else in the world. Except I was a
really nice person who always put the needs of others above my own. But anyone can do that.
Anyway, as my
father walked behind me - sideways down the edge of the boat, serious doubts
crept into my mind. I realized
that I was about to marry a man that didn’t meet any of my pre-conceived ideas
about who I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. He was just a really good guy that loved me and was willing
to put up with my passionate, loud views about the world.
As I’m shimmying
down the foot-wide passage talking to my father and doubts racing through my
head - I hear a voice in my head say very clearly, “Anna. It’s okay. This is the man you are supposed to marry. Now go to him.”
To date, it was
the strangest moment of my life.
The entire ceremony, all I could do was try to make sense of that voice
in my head. Obviously, I said my
vows and twenty-three years ago (TODAY AS A MATTER OF FACT), it’s pretty clear
it was God and He was telling me to set-aside logic and my fears and marry a
man that I barely knew and was not at all what I thought I needed.
There are many
stories to tell about our marriage, but suffice it to say it has been a
constant growth process as we both live and learn and love. Having both been divorced, we were
certain about one thing – we were committed to each other no matter what. Frequently, we have had to rely on that
commitment.
Sometimes all I
can say is, “We are committed until death do us part, and I’m thinking that death
for one of us seems like a really good option right now!” And I’m not just talking. I seriously feel that way.
I’m good at
expressing my feelings. But sometimes, I should keep my feelings to
myself.
The reality is
that sometimes the commitment is the only thing that holds our marriage
together. If we depended on how we felt or how the other person acted, we would
have had plenty of reasons to end it.
I know that I
have been so unhappy at times that I felt like I would rather be alone – but
since we both know that we must stay together, it limits our choices. Either we live in misery, kill each
other, or work it out. Generally,
we work it out. Although there was a period lasting almost a year when we were
parenting 9 kids and could barely stand each other.
Early on in our
foster/adoptive journey, we decided to make exactly the same commitment to the
children that came into our home.
It is a ‘til death do us part” commitment that says you can’t act your
way out of our house. We try not
to focus on the death part – but the commitment. We did this because we are
fostering and adopting kids with dramatic pasts and with a lot of baggage and
we know that they will try to act out and test the limits. It isn’t personal – even though I must
admit it feels like it many times.
They just wanted to see what they can get away with and for many – it is
an intentional act to get sent away because they don’t want to form any long-term
commitments.
We have never
heard of another family that has made this kind of commitment to their
foster/adoptive children. It has been a hard promise to keep. Sometimes it feels like it will destroy
us. Often, we have to let the
children leave us for a time. But
we have always accepted them back – much like the prodigal son. In fact, we have used that story to
explain to the kids why we are willing to take them back, even when it is clear
they have done nothing to deserve our unconditional commitment. But we have
consistently kept our promise and we believe it has given some of our children
the stability they need to settle in.
At some level we will never know the results of our choices, but we can
be sure it is the right choice.
And that God would approve.
I personally
believe that God used our first failed marriages to teach us about the
importance of commitment for our own marriage, and for the children that we had
no idea would need that same kind of commitment.
Twenty-three years ago today I was shopping for a wedding dress and
waiting on my family to fly in a private plane down to Fort Walton Beach,
Florida, to attend our surprise wedding.
With only 24 hours to plan our wedding, it was so freeing to have such a
short time to make decisions. And
it was perfect.
I’m an opinionated, passionate, dedicated, over-zealous, over-achieving
woman with dreams. My husband is a
quiet, dedicated, patient, determined, humble man who has not followed my
dreams – but pursued them with me.
It has been hard. Very
hard. Marriage is not what I
imagined as a child. But it is
good. And I am happy and
full-filled. And I have learned a whole new respect for “arranged
marriages.” Sometimes, our own
ideas of the perfect spouse aren’t quite what we imagine either.
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