Three weeks before the end of my senior year at FSU, I abruptly ended a long-distance relationship with the man I had been dating for the past two and a half years of my life. We had plans together. He had plans to be a pastor - I had spent the last year preparing my rough-around-the-edges heart to be a pastor's wife. In a turn of events that took place very unexpectly, those plans fell apart.
Summer followed quickly. So did my return to Melbourne. I hated coming back. Mostly because he was coming back too, and neither of us had had the time we needed to heal yet.
Melbourne's a small town, but we managed as best we could to avoid each other those first few weeks. As best we could. One Saturday toward the beginning of the summer, I went to a close family friend's graduation party. His older brother, David, had casually bumped into my ex-boyfriend earlier that day, and had casually mentioned the party, throwing out a flippant invite. "Sure, I'll be there." Then, David thought things through.
"Chappy, I'm so sorry - I don't know what I was thinking, but he's coming. I ran into him... and... I just invited him... I didn't think he'd actually come, but he said 'yes,' and..."
"It's fine, David. It's your house - you can invite whoever you want. And it's a small town. We have the same friends. I'm gonna see him."
David seemed relieved, and I felt bad that he had been so worried for my sake. I meant everything I had just said to him... but if I was being completely honest, I was a wreck inside. Melbourne's a small town, but their house was even smaller.
As soon as he walked through the door, I nonchalantly made my way to the other side of the house. Similar maneuvers were made throughout the duration of the party, until I finally found myself slouching on the arm of a two-person couch that was being properly occupied by David and his good friend Nathan.
I had known who Nathan was for years - heck, we sat in the same room more times than I could count - but we had never met before. And truth be told, we didn't meet that day either. We just started bantering, like the oldest of friends. At some point in our conversation, David would say something perfect, arming my wit, and I would respond with, "That's what she said." Nathan would break out in laughter, while David would come back with, "Wow," to which I would again reply, "That's what she said." (This cycle continued for a good twenty minutes.) I had soon forgotten my discomfort, finding comfort in my old friend... and my new one.
Break-ups tend to result in changing your circle of friends - especially if you and your ex shared the same friends. After that afternoon, I spent a lot of time with David and his friends that summer. In consequence of this (and the fact that Nathan and I enjoyed the same types of humor and exchanging in battles of wit), Nathan and I bonded over the next several months. Just as friends, of course. He had a girlfriend at the time, and though a few people had suggested that "he was a good catch" and we were "perfect for each other," I was just happy for them and more than content with having a good friend - one who seemed to really get me and always knew how to make me laugh.
Toward the end of summer, Nathan and his girlfriend also broke up. A good friend of mine suggested that "this was a sign." I laughed at her. I was sure he only liked me as a friend. A couple weeks later, Nathan asked me on our first date... followed by several more.
If you read the blog post I mentioned above, then you know that I hopped in my car (or CR-V at the time) on a whim and took a trip to Tallahassee last September to interview for two potential jobs. By the end of summer, I was still itching to get away from Melbourne, and although I liked Nathan, I wasn't attached yet... and I was fighting myself tooth and nail to keep it that way.
I remember telling him about the trip right before I left. He smiled and wished me luck, but I could see in his eyes that he was dreading the possibility that I might just get what I wanted (or what I thought I wanted at the time).
I felt certain that God was calling me to work in youth ministry, and though I wasn't sure what form that would take on, I sought a position where I could fulfill that calling as a single woman. (I should note that Nathan was working toward a degree in technical theatre at the time, to pursue a career in the music industry.) During a phone call with my friend Ford, expressing my frustration in the fact that many churches don't want to hire a woman as a youth minister, he jokingly asked, "Why don't you just marry a youth pastor?" Like it was that simple.
The youth pastor position in Tallahassee fell through - largely because of my gender - and I felt that my next move should be to just dive into youth ministry where I was and to wait for God to open a door... so I went back to my non-ministry-related job in Melbourne and became more involved in the youth worship team at my hometown church in my spare time.
Nathan and I continued dating, and our relationship developed much faster than I expected. By February, I was sure that this relationship would be different - that he was the one that I wanted to share the rest of my life with - and I was relieved to find out he felt the same way about me. A couple months later, while enjoying an iced mocha at the Sun Shoppe, Nathan timidly shared with me that he felt God was calling him to be a pastor. He said that he had been reluctant to tell me, because he was scared that I would have second thoughts on the basis that pastors don't make an enviable living, and he knew "I didn't want to be poor," as per a prior conversation we had had. I laughed. "Babe, I was planning on marrying a pastor long before I met you. God already did that work in my heart during the last relationship." I don't think I've ever seen him so relieved, and honestly, looking back, I think I had been waiting for that conversation to come up for a while.
Nathan is currently volunteering as the junior high youth minister at our church and loves it. (You win, Ford.)
That first summer back home, I had complained to my older sister that "If you grew up in Melbourne, you don't meet new people here, because you've already met everyone there is to meet - and there is nobody here for me." As a result, she had invited me to house-sit for her and her husband in Colorado the following February for two months while they were away on a lengthy business-related trip, in the hopes that I might "meet" someone during that time. I turned down her offer because of my job at the time. The funny thing is, by February, I was in the process of quitting that job for another.
But maybe I was right. When you've lived here for forever, maybe you don't meet new people in Melbourne. Maybe you just start bantering like you're the oldest of friends... and fall in love. On August 27, 2010, Nathan and I went on our first date... followed by several more. One year (and two weeks and three days) later, I am more in love with this man than I know how to express, and every day, he tells me the very same thing. It blows my mind.
There are many other noteworthy things that happened over the past year. I've switched jobs three times, and I think I've finally settled into something I can call "my career." I've made many new friends, and grown closer to some old ones. I've also lost a few.
Livi, one of my newest and now closest friends, asked me the other day, "Do you think we'd be friends if Katie [my best friend] had never left for school?" I replied, "I wonder that often. I honestly don't know." I wish I could've said, "No doubt in my mind," but the truth is, I wasn't looking for a friend while Kate was here - I had one - and had she stayed in Melbourne, it's quite possible that I wouldn't have seen the need for another friendship. I would've missed out. Truly.
I often wonder these things, like, "What if I had moved back to Tallahassee?" and, "What if I'd gone to Colorado when I had the chance?" I let my mind wander for a while. Then I thank God for not always letting me have my way...
