It wasn’t too long ago that I was talking to a friend about how I would really love to meet a guy at church. I’ve never dated a truly spiritual man, and lately that’s what I’ve found myself wanting in terms of my next partner; someone who could share my faith. A man who could encourage me, help to guide me, and hold my hand on my path to God.
Unfortunately, I go to a church that is packed full of young families and very few single people.
Children run rampant, husbands and wives wrap their arms around each other, and I sit alone. Looking around at all the cute families and wondering how it is that the unity I'm witnessing has managed to elude me up to this point in my life.
Last night, I actually found myself praying for love. Real love. Strong love. The kind of love that lasts. It’s rare that I pray for this because if we’re being 100% honest; I do alright for myself single. I like my quiet life and the freedom to do what I want when I want. I don’t need anyone to take care of me or provide for me, and so the other issues in my life (i.e. endometriosis and infertility) often take precedence in my prayers.
But last night for whatever reason, I found myself praying for that man who is meant for me, to make his appearance. I found myself telling God that I’m ready, and that I’m tired of going it all alone. I found myself asking for true love, and for a man to forge through the rest of this life alongside me. His hand in mine. Not just a warm body on the right side of my bed, but a true soul mate. Someone willing to fight against my neurosis and hold me accountable when fear sets in and I start to pull away. Someone who could love me for me, rather than an idealized version of me he has perched upon a pedestal.
Because an overwhelming theme amongst the men in my life is that they tend to build me up into someone far greater than who I am. And in the end, they are always wholly disappointed in what they actually find.
A man who could see me for who I am, scars and all, and love me still… now that would be a blessing.
And as I prayed on this last night I found myself thinking that as closed off as I’ve been to dating because of the current obstacles in my life (and not wanting to bring someone into the chaos that is trying to make a baby on my own), suddenly the idea of having someone by my side through this next stage doesn’t sound so horrible. Even if that would mean that the very foundation of our relationship would have to be built upon my being pregnant with some strange mans child (or children).
Then I fell asleep and had another night of dreaming about Gerard Butler (I’m telling you, if I ever actually meet that man I will talk his ear off about all the nights we’ve actually spent together).
This morning I had a hair appointment that wound up being done half an hour before I thought it would be, and so I went to church early – earlier than I have ever been before. I am a girl who unfortunately runs late to everything, and church is no exception. I’m typically running in as the last of the worship service is winding down, seeking out a singular empty chair anywhere I can find it while striving not to distract anyone anymore than necessary.
Today though, I was early. But it wasn’t until after I sat down that I spied him (because had I seen him before then, I would have sat closer!)
Across the room was a man in his late 20’s/early 30’s. A man sitting alone who couldn’t have been more my type if he had tried. Tall, dark hair, pretty eyes, and a full beard.
Because yes, I have a thing for mountain men.
From that point forward, I missed the rest of the service. It was something I likely should have been paying attention to (all about Martha and her inability to relax and bask in Gods glory because she was too busy worrying and fretting about the minor details she wanted to control – sound like anyone we know? It’s possible I may be a Martha.) But I couldn’t. I couldn’t get myself to focus. Couldn’t force myself to pay attention.
I was too busy stealing glances at the attractive man sitting by himself across the room.
The man who I in turn caught stealing several glances at me as well.
That’s right ladies and gentlemen; there was no doubt some mutual checking out that was going on.
When the service ended I tried to think quickly, but my brain failed me. I have never been good at being forward. When the ex and I met it was at a big BBQ. His kids were running around, and we were surrounded by people. I was ridiculously interested, but I couldn’t bring myself to say more than a few words to him. I just kept stealing glances and hoping he would get the hint.
He did, and a few days later he actually called me after tracking down my number through friends of friends. But instead of doing all the wooing, he made some comment about feeling weird over how he had gotten my number in the first place and not wanting to make me uncomfortable, so he said “Now you’ve got my number too though, so I'll go ahead and let you go. If you want to get together some time, the balls in your court.”
I about died, and fretted for 3 days over whether or not to call him back. The truth is; the man almost lost me there. Not because I wasn’t interested (I was really interested), but because I lacked the nerve required to pick up the phone and pursue him.
And that same fear sunk into me today. What was I supposed to do? Stand at the back of the church and wait for him? Presumptuously introduce myself? Ask him to lunch?
No, I am not a girl who pursues. I am wholly lacking that gene, and any attempt in that direction makes my stomach knot up and my head start spinning.
So I left. Just like that. After making eye contact the entire sermon.
I left.
Ironically, as I was getting into my car I saw him getting into his truck. Parked right next to mine. In fact, we wound up driving out right behind each other.
In a church full of hundreds of people, we had managed to park next to each other and drive out together.
And now, I know what he drives (a big, blue, manly-man truck). Not that I’m a stalker or anything.
I’m already plotting out next week, hoping to see him again and planning to sit closer to where he was this time. Counting on the pastor to tell us all to introduce ourselves to those around us, so that I can seize that opportunity to learn this man’s name.
I’m thinking I’ll have to arrive early again, so that I can scope the room out before choosing my seat. I might have to be a bit calculated in order to get this introduction.
But I’m telling you what;
I have a feeling this isn’t the last you’ll be hearing about this man.
ADSPACE
