My husband and I didn’t date before we married.
This is true. Really. We met as counselors at a church camp. I was fascinated by this man who looked directly into my eyes with his own denim-blue ones. I knew he liked me when he tossed me into a snowbank. A small group of us stopped for hot cocoa and french fries before going home. He & I exchanged addresses and hugged goodbye, but then everybody was hugging everyone else goodbye. It was after we were in our separate vehicles and ready to roll when he trotted back over, leaned in the car and said, “God was going to kick my butt all the way home if I didn’t come back and kiss you goodbye.” It wasn’t much of a kiss, but once I got over the surprise, I would have climbed into the cab of his truck and gone anywhere with him, then and there. And to the best of my knowledge, God did not spend the next 3 hours kicking his butt!
We lived 6 hours apart. Our letters crossed in the mail. We talked on the phone. We went back to the camp to ski and get to know each other in a safe environment. After
a resonable period of time 2 weekend visits, we were engaged. There were many more weekend visits, but we rarely had what might be construed as a traditional date. I can recall one movie, one dinner out at a pizza place. We got to know each other, but all our funds were spent on phone bills and gasoline.
It has been nearly 21 years since he asked me to marry him. I still love to look into his denim-blue eyes. He still makes me laugh. And we occasionally go on a date… a dinner out, an extra-long walk, a bike ride, or just a drive. Nothing earth-shattering, like this:
I think this comic must have been inspired by this post by Susie!