Today I’m participating in a “Love Carnival” hosted by the wonderful Modern Mrs. Darcy. Doesn’t that sound like fun before you even know what it is? I have been enjoying her writing, and I’m excited to join the carnival. You can read my post below, and then click here to see the other Love Carnival posts. Enjoy!
There are times when traveling to an exotic land and falling in love with a tall, dark and handsome Latino man is not as glamorous as one might expect. However, even on your hard days, you tend to receive some sign, some confirmation that carries you through. At least I think that’s how it works when you keep surrendering your will to God. Every day and sometimes every hour.
When I left for language school I never expected this to be my life. I had spent the last two years practically living in the library working on my masters, and I was hungry for an adventure. Unlike many of my colleagues, I felt directionless as we approached graduation until I revisited the long-dormant idea of studying Spanish abroad. It was to be a time of spiritual and mental growth, and an opportunity to see a part of God’s glorious creation that I had yet to witness–waterfalls, cloud forests, ocean, and lots of Spanish. I never imagined that I would fall in love. That I would find IT. The real thing. The Love of my Life.
Once again, God proved to be the best story writer. I always worried that I wouldn’t meet someone because people say it happens when you least expect it. Being the hopeless romantic that I am, I was ALWAYS expecting it…except for this trip. My practical side never would have allowed for the possibility that any relationship could happen in such a short amount of time. I wasn’t willing to date someone that I couldn’t foresee a future with, and I couldn’t foresee a future with anyone who lived in another country. So, the old saying was true for me. It happened when I least expected it. And it was breathtaking. To feel simultaneously completely thrilled and completely safe and at home with someone was something I had only dreamed about until I met HIM. And that was it. It was just right, and I had peace, and I knew long before I was willing to admit it to myself that he was my person. I was finally inspired to be courageous and open my heart and do whatever I had to do to be with this man.
After meeting each other’s families and countless conversations and prayers, we made a plan that would allow him to finish his degree in the U.S. Then, the waiting and trusting and hoping from thousands of miles apart (2,493 miles, to be exact) began. On that hard day, a few months into our separation, I was having a difficult time trusting and hoping. The challenges we faced seemed insurmountable. I didn’t see a solution that would allow us to be together and happy at any point in the near future. I was furiously typing all of my doubts and worries to him on G-chat (while he was at work). He tried to comfort me and reminded me to trust God. I knew he was right, and I was momentarily thankful that he couldn’t see me… all splotchy and sniffling. Then my phone rang. We only talked on Skype and G-chat because those were free, so I knew it wasn’t him. I glanced at the number, annoyed that some undisclosed caller was interrupting my pity party. I took a deep breath and tried to compose myself. “Hello?”
It was him. “I could tell you were crying.”
And then I melted. Our connection was stronger than ever. There must a reason for this, I thought. This must be leading somewhere good.
That afternoon in April 2009 seems like yesterday in some ways. We were apart for a total of eight months. About two years after that hard day, he proposed. And now that handsome man is my husband. God’s timing is perfect.