when you know, you know. ya know? part 1

i realize this may be interesting to some and down right boring to others. but for me…when my mind is old and feeble, i will be glad to have a record of our story.

Dating was the last thing on my mind. And besides that, it wasn’t even an option at the time. Thoughts about a future husband? Are you kidding? I was a missionary in Spain—doing missionary things and focusing on just about everything but me and the man I would end up with forever.

It was transfer day and I was leaving my beloved area for a new adventure down south. I figured it would probably be my last area. I had only 2 short months left before returning home. Excited, nervous, and wanting to really put the pedal to the metal down the home stretch, I asked a ward leader and respected friend to give me a blessing—some divine counsel to guide me towards a strong finish.

With my ears piqued, I listened intently to his words. In my mind I was taking careful note of the things I needed to do and the person I needed to be. Got it. Check. Yep, I’ll remember that. Somehow in the midst of it, my mental notes shifted to What? Did he say what I think he just said? Whoa. That was odd. Really odd.
And then it was time to go.

During the long train ride down the picturesque Mediterranean coast, his words kept running circles around me,  “When you return home, you will have absolutely no doubts about the man you are to marry.” How weird, I thought. First off, I’m not going home yet. So, love life? Not my focus. Second, there are no prospects awaiting me. Except maybe one. And he's nice, but nice can only go so far. And lastly, I’m a born doubter. So it would be nothing short of a miracle. I decided I might as well get all these thoughts on paper just in case I might need them for future reference. Way, way. waaaaaay down the road, of course.

Tucking those thoughts away, I went to work. And work we did. I didn’t want to go back to normal life. To have to think about myself and be caught up in the trivial stuff like school, and a job, and that messed up world called the dating scene. But the time soon came to shift gears. And my mission president knew that. He scheduled my exit interview on a summer afternoon in July.

We talked. I cried. He counseled—giving me the usual goodness full of wisdom and love that came from him. He was one of my heroes, a father figure during a pivotal time. And his wife, well I knew I wanted to be just like her someday. He asked me what my plans were upon returning home. I had only one for sure. I was going back to school at BYU to brave what I considered to be the jungle of love—made up of those with well-drawn maps looking for it, those already entangled in it, and those who had sworn it was a remote tribe of natives that could never be found.

“Ah, BYU. That’s a good place to be.” He smiled. “You should look up my son when you get there.”

to be continued…