to find beauty

if you told me... (warning: i cry.)

If you had told me a year ago that I'd be planning a wedding now. I would have laughed.

If you had told me that I'd be crying as much as I have since Dave and I started seriously-dating, I wouldn't have believed you either. My idealism would have argued that after years of waiting for my prince to come, I wouldn't be sad. Ever!

I am not sad though, about Dave at least. Being in a relationship. Getting engaged. Planning a wedding. Envisioning a new life ahead:

It's wonderful. I love it. I love the boy. He's wonderful. I am happy.

But it's so freakin' emotional.

When Dave asked my dad for his blessing: I was an emotional mess. Nervous. Excited. Years of father wounds surfacing and hitting my heart like ocean waves on the sand. Relentless. It was so much to take in.

And tears helped me through. Happy tears. Scared tears. Comforting, big soppy wet tears.

It's weird being so happy, so in love, so excited for the future... and so easily able to cry.

I feel like such a girl.

Go figure.

I cried today. A couple times, really. I won't get into all of the causes, except the one that had me crying like a big baby last night, choking my throat and stinging my eyes, and continued to make me cry - if I let myself think about it - today. The same reason I started crying at Gustav's over sausage and cheese fondue with Dave mid-January. The same reason I cried in Dave's car one night months ago.

My cat Elwood.

Goodness. I may cry again.

Here's the deal: I love my cat. Call me Cat Lady until you are blue in the face, but I love my cat. When I was depressed and ready to drive my car into a tree (dark times my college years): I held my cat Emme (Elwood's mama) close to me at night and cried into her fur. She was my comfort. I practically tricked and lied to my college room mates to even get her into our apartment. But I needed a cat. When she died, oh gosh, it was really hard.

But she left me beautiful, mischievious kittens. Four of the five... well, I don't know where they are today. Sometimes one of them, Eddie, miraculously appears. But I still have Elwood. Since May of 2004, Elwood has been my baby.

I know he's a cat. A furball, fleaball. But Since 2004, a lot has happened in my life. I left school, I went back to school 5 years later. I was a nanny for 12 kids (a crazy summer!) I found myself cleaning toilets and doing someone else's laundry: humbling. I filed bankruptcy, after a year or so of desperately working with angry frustrating bill collectors.

I've made wonderful friends. I've found a church I love. I've worked in ministries I love. I went on a mission trip. I fought with friends. I made up with friends. I had my heart broken.

So much and more.

All the time, I had Elwood by my side. Cuddling with me at night. Whining for food. Peeing on my new rugs. But mostly, letting me hold him as I cried or was mad or whatever.

I love my cat. And he's quite attached to me. He's the best cat ever.

And I am facing the reality that when I get married, and when I move out, Elwood can't come with me.

Oh gosh. Don't cry, Cori.

I don't know how to deal with it. Because I love Dave. And I love the life we are planning. I don't want a cat to dictate my life and future. I don't want my cat to out-beat a wonderful man who loves me and wants to marry me. Who also will hold me when I cry and tell me everything will be ok. Not in meows either. But in real words.

But I want Elwood with me damnit. I don't want to leave him at my parents. I don't want someone else feeding him Friskies when he cries really loud or letting him my bedroom window when he scratches at the glass. Oh gosh! What if no one lets him in? What if he cries and cries and no one hears him?

Too late. I am crying again.

Am I being pathetic? This sadness I feel about leaving Elwood hurts so bad. Even if I can still visit him. He's not dying.

I pray that God will give me peace. That I can be okay with not having a cat because I will have a husband. You'd think I wouldn't look at the countdown to my wedding (148 days) and not think of it as the countdown to when I won't have a cat anymore on the end of my bed.

Instead I will have a happy man. Hmmmmm. ;)

I don't want Dave to feel bad either. He loves Elwood too. But where we will be living, Elwood can't come. And where we will be living is where Dave's job is.

Heck, one of the biggest reasons I've lived with parents for the past 6 or so years is because I refused to move without Elwood.

Okay, I know there are way more important things in the world. Like poverty. Earthquakes. Wars. And I am probably being a drama queen.

And I know I love Dave more than my cat.

I just don't know how to not be sad about this new life being cat-less. I don't know if it's even okay for me to write about this, because I don't want anyone to think I am crazy. But this is one thing that is tearing up my heart. And I want to be honest, even at the risk of the Cat Lady name-calling.

If you told me now that in a year, I wouldn't cry at the mention of not having Elwood with me.. I would laugh.

And the laugh might be a good change from the tears.

it just so happened...

The word is out! I'm getting married.

I'M GETTING MARRIED!

Wow.

It's really real. 29 years of waiting, feeling hopeful and wondering (a lot). Of purchasing books like How To Get a Date Worth Keeping (which I might add... was the last book I read as a single person) and watching boy-gets-the-girl movies.

Of course, about 12 of those 29 years, boys had cooties and were really great to play soccer with... and that's about it.

So, 17 years. That's a whole teenager (and one who drives.) 17 years of writing in my diary angry/sad letters to God: "When Lord? What's wrong with me? Why not this guy? What do you want me to do? I give up. No more, well, maybe one more. I trust You."

17 years of wondering who this guy is going to be. Not really understanding how anyone will understand me or think I am beautiful even when my eyes are red and my hair is a mess. Or who would be as silly as I am. And as serious. Or would love the Lord. And love people. And be so patient. And...

I just couldn't picture him. And then, it just so happened I responded to an ad that he was just about to pull off from view. And it just so happened he knew friends of friends. And felt a calling to serve in Nicaragua, just like me. It just so happened that despite his crazy spelling, I continued to write to him. And it just so happened I sat with two friends over coffee in my church lobby (when I was thinking of ending email communications) who told me give him a shot because I was just scared. And I did. And it just so happened we had actually met a year or so before, but our friends didn't introduce us... It just happened we fell in love.

At church, we are going through a message called Defining Moments. It's a series on Esther, but what I love most about the messages is when Pastor George reminds us that God is always at work. Even when we don't see Him, He is behind-the-scenes, the master coordinator of all the it just so happeneds.

I remember the night before I was supposed to meet Dave for this first time. I was so nervous and excited. Everything with Dave had felt so different, even when I was so scared. It's hard to explain. But it was like I could do anything, and it would work out. If I bought a lottery ticket, I'd win. If I went jeans shopping, I'd need a size smaller (and they'd look fantastic.) The night before I met Dave, I remember feeling this intense call to worship. So, I got out of bed, and turned on a worship compilation CD. And waited. 

And as I listened to the words of the songs, I wanted to sing too.  I needed to bow down on my knees. God broke my heart. And prayers intermingled with flowing tears. I let everything I could out. Everything that had been holding me down. Emptied, I went to back to bed and to sleep.

As Dave and I have dated, I've learned many things about me. And about boys (they are still so weird.) And relationships. (You should see all the new books about being engaged I have!) I am learning about trust and getting over fears and in enjoying life. I learned to take a chance, and adventure can be a new relationship.

I didn't write during the holidays. I don't know why I didn't, becase it ached not to. So many happy things happened. We made Thanksgiving dinner. We are building our ministry together for the youth at My Father's House. We talked about marriage (a lot actually), and he "had the talk" with my dad. We celebrated Christmas and I got Sharpies and diamond earrings. We kissed at midnight on New Year's Eve.

It was wonderful.

Now, there is the most beautiful engagement ring ever being resized for me. For me. And I just spent the last couple hours snuggled with this man who loves me and wants to marry me. Who I wish I could snuggle with forever... but we have to wait 174* days for any of that.

My husband-to-be.

Who, on January 28th stood beside me at Seaside beach, overlooking a beautiful sunset and told me that he loved me so much. I remember looking up at his face as he spoke and he looked nervous. But I felt calm and at peace. He said he knew exactly five months prior, on the same beach, watching me across a bonfire on my birthday that he loved me and someday would ask me to marry him.

And so he did.

Will you marry me?

And it just so happened...  I said yes.

  

*The coundown until the Big Wedding Day as of 2/6/2010.

the holy dash

Dave and I have been asked several times lately if we've had our first, big fight.

Really. (I think its a little weird.) In fact, I recall very clearly sitting at my desk at work with my two closest-in-vicinity-and-in-heart co-workers talking between themselves about their bets on when our first fight would be...

"Cori," one of them asks very seriously, "What do you think you and Dave would fight about first?"

Enter: me with a dumb look on my face. Uhhh. I don't know.

Are they trying to start a fight?

I suggest driving... maybe?

This piques their sick-and-twisted interests... which they defend (rightly) arguing is a natural part of a relationship. I am also prodded with questions about Dave's driving skills.

Poor Dave. What did he ever do?

"No, no, no ladies. Dave drives just fine." (Well, except the one time he drove through a red light and then drove the wrong direction on the one-way road after we got lost in downtown Portland... or when he hit the gas down the scary, steep hill on the way to my house. Or the time we visited the zoo... but almost didn't make it in time, because "the sun got in his eyes and he couldn't see the GPS tell him to turn at the correct exit and we ended up in Lake Oswego" ... hmm. But why would I say reveal this to them? Aren't girlfriends supposed to keep these things a secret? *wink*)

No, I repeat.  It's not about Dave and his driving. Not all the time. But about me, and learning how to be a passenger. To allow someone else some "control" in my life. I've been thinking about this a lot actually. Go with me here.

As a single person, you learn how to be quite independent. You pay your own bills, and work at a job that (hopefully) provides you with the right amount of income to pay all the bills. You may own your car, so you may need tires or to keep up with other maintenance type things... You take care of it. You learn where to go, what different noises and smells mean for different car troubles. (You also know how to call Dad.) If you want to go somewhere, do something, visit someone... you get it done.  You go. You get in your car and you drive... new tunes blaring, windows down, a bag of Skittles within reach, and you are off.

I was a single person for a long time. And granted, I am still a single person... but I am one half of a couple now too. (Which still makes me giggle a little.) And I've learned something about my boyfriend Dave:

He likes to drive. He likes to be da man. I've chosen a gentleman (and for that I am certainly not going to complain!) He said once that driving me was a blessing to him, that he loved looking over to his right and seeing me next to him. And that when he drives, and I am not next to him, he misses me.

AWWW.

And he's mastered driving with one hand... so he can hold mine with the other when we are on our way somewhere...

AWWW.

(Unless its scary driving conditions, and both hands are on the wheel, thankyouverymuch!)

Actually, let's see... we've been "dating" since June/July-ish and I have yet to drive him anywhere. Suspicious! I have driven his SUV once, but he wasn't in the vehicle.

Maybe he's scared? Maybe he's heard about the time I accidentally hit the police car, which I still testify was the police officer's fault... but what was I going to do, argue the law? Seriously. It made me so mad!

Focus.

I do think its suspicious.

I am learning something about being a couple, which I think is part of a bigger lesson women, and men, learn when they are in, or thinking about being in a *cough* marriage relationship: trusting another person. Letting go of the my-way-only, independent attitude and letting another person take the lead...

I've learned a lot sitting in the passengar seat. I may not be driving, but Dave still needs me to help him. With directions, with grabbing his phone so he doesn't get too distracted by the beeps of a new text message and risks rear-ending the car ahead of us, or choosing good tunes to listen to... And I am learning to just sit, enjoy the view outside and not  worrying about all the details of the journey. He's got it covered.

I am learning (slowly) how to enjoy not having to be in control of everything. All the time.

My grandma never drove. Never, ever. My grandpa drove a 1976 Plymouth Valiant. Maroon. The dashboard on the passengar side was ripped and torn from excessive gripping. The family joked that it was "holy" dash... hole-y literally, but also holy from the frequent prayers said by my grandma when she was a passenger.

I figure if my wonderful, loving, God-fearing grandma can be very happily married for over 50 years, and she let my (very wonderful, if not a little aggressive at driving) grandpa drive her around for over 50 years... and despite the holy dash, there was no significant negative affects from this act of submission (yes, I said the s-word)... than maybe I can do it too.

Conclusions

Dave and I haven't had a big fight yet. 

Dave says we don't fight because he is a good listener. (Which he is. He is an awesome listener.)

Someday Dave will let me drive and he will be soooo in awe of my amazing driving skills that he will want me to drive all the time, and I will miss these glory passenger days...

I think grandma's Holy Dash was also called the Holy Shit Dash... But that's between you and me.

spiritual leader man

I've been mulling over the role of spiritual leader in a family, or in a couple relationship, periodically this summer. Not just because I am now enjoying the wonderful benefits of a great, Godly man in a dating relationship, but as I look around in my worlds - the church, friends and family, the community, large and small - I see different calls to action being asked in leading the family unit and I wonder who is taking the lead. Is it a man thing? A shared duty? Does one parent end up taking more on... and is that fair? Right? Just the way it is?

I am not claiming any one opinion. I'm just thinking... Feel free to bust in.

I should also mention that I begin a "Sociology of the Family" class next week. I am gearing up!

I've also been observing the relationships of my friends. Who intiates prayer in the relationship? Is there consistent prayer in the relationship, in the family? Who chooses the church they attend? The ministries they serve in? Is there a difference in how spiritual leadership is seen in my peer-group couple friends compared to those who are a little older? That's just the beginning...

I see some friends fighting for the type of family that women before the big feminist movements were so unhappy about - I based this generalization on my readings from my Marriage and Power class from last Fall. Dad works, mom stays home with the kiddos. Not so classic anymore as the definition of the family has changed over the years. Who provides the security, stability, direction and foundation of faith?

I see friends happy as clams sharing the making dinner and bathroom cleaning duties. There is a partnership in how they get things done. While sometimes only the dude works, sometimes both works. Respect comes out when one another looks to the other's strengths and weaknesses and either sacrifices for the other (like cleaning the bathoom when both hate it) or letting the guy drive (because he really likes it.) (I am learning the latter right now...)

I know there is no cookie cutter pattern for a family. Some families purposefully meet together to read the Bible, pray, have dinner together every week, or every day. At Abundant Life Church, Family Ministies launched a new curriculum called Fusion to help families bond together during the week, to join the church and the family in teaching kids about Jesus. I love reading different people from ALC share Facebook posts about how they are prioritizing Fusion in their family.

I look at my own family, and I see two parents who still love each other and are committed to each other, despite many hardships. We never had Fusion, and our bonding was mostly while watching tv - particularly the Cosby Show - while eating Burgerville cheeseburgers and tomato soup.  

When I look at my parents, and try to figure out who the spiritual leader is in my home, of course I say Dad, its how I was raised to think and he does lead the family... but I also look at my mom and I know if it wasn't for her strength, prayers, and committment to my dad... our family wouldn't be what it is... a little dysfunctional and not-quite-the-Cosby's, but we love each other. We'd do anything for each other.

Like many Christian girls, I was raised to look at the men I dated and ask the big questions. Does he love the Lord? Does he actually go to church, serve and love others? (Y'know act out what he professes.) Does he have the potential to be a spiritual leader in my family, with me? Is he accountable to others in his actions; does he have a mentor?

It's a lot to ask. That's why we pray for God's guidance and provision.

I knew things would be different with Dave... and it freaked me out. Here is this guy who on paper is everything I had hoped and prayed for. He loved the Lord, in fact, he had committed his life to loving God and loving people.  We both had a heart of Nicaragua, which is pretty crazy in of itself. He not only reads the Bible, but he teaches the Bible to young kiddos. He was passing all the spiritual leader tests. I can't remember all the little things... they just kept piling up to one big thing in my heart and mind: I needed to let go of my fears and trust this one. He was pretty darn wonderful.

So, one Sunday night towards the end of July, I sat in a recliner chair with my laptop. Dave and I had been out several times, and I believe we were chatting on the phone too. I was bound and determined to pull up my sleeve and reveal a little of my heart. I was also watching the movie Nim's Island, which if you've seen it, you know its about letting go of fears and living a life of adventure... and its a movie for 12-year olds.  I had told Dave a couple weeks prior, that while I liked him, I was only comfortable with friendship. I know! What was I thinking? I was thinking I was scared.

But... I didn't want him to become another platonic friendship either because I was too scared to be open, to be a little bold. So, with the adventures of Alex Rover (from the movie) cheering me on, I composed an email telling him how I was feeling... and that I needed him to be patient with me as I got used to everything and to him... that I knew he was an awesome guy, and I wanted to get to know him better. It was a "green light" email.

And, even though it was after 1am (which is usually always a mistake), I sent it. And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

It felt like forever before I heard from him; he called me after work the next day. (Less than 20 hours later, but who's counting?)

I remember talking to him that Monday night, on the super-cool, red chair at the Strannigan's home (which will soon be my home!!), listening to his voice and hearing him speak of patience and a desire for our relationship to be centered on God. I listened and I was floored.

Was this really happening?

He asked if he could pray for me; if he could always pray for me when we spoke on the phone. I nodded... then realized he couldn't see me nodding, and said yes.

And then he prayed for me. And again, I felt the hard, protective stuff around my heart chip away. I was still scared, but I felt like I just did something really brave and wonderful. I also felt something really wonderful happening... I felt safe and special and cared for because it was just as important to him that our relationship be centered on God.

The next day, he emailed me back. But he called me before I read it... and he prayed again for me to have an open mind and heart when I read his email (this actually made me a little nervous and suspicious), and we talked again about how we felt towards each other.

In his email, he reminded me that sometimes it takes a leap of faith like Peter and knowing God will always be there. He told me I was worth the wait, that I was special and lovely and more precious than diamonds. He called me Proverbs 31 woman (which I admit my small group ladies and I looked up that week to read up on...) He made me feel like a princess.

I know it was several weeks later before Facebook officially confirmed we were in a relationship and before Dave and I talked about being "boyfriend and girlfriend" with each other... but for me... this was "when". These emails of letting go and putting God as numero uno in our relationship, this was when things changed for me. It's when I knew in my heart, this man would be spiritual leader. And the whole "love is a choice" thing is pretty true when you make the choice to open and vulnerable to something - to someone- new. And while I still had many fears to overcome, I knew he was safe. I knew he would be praying for me, for us, and for those we cared for.

first dates

My grand plan was to write about the night Dave and I first met for my next post.

Like two weeks ago I was supposed to write this post...

But I've been a little preoccuppied lately actually dating the guy than to write about him - I am also packing for the Big Move (!!), prepping for Fall Launch at church/work, and countless other exciting little things (like turning 29)! Go figure! So, I realize this post is long overdue... but I promise I've got some good, fairly embarassing posts just ready to be written... patience my lovely, (G-rated) voyeuristic friends. *wink*

(I just Googled "voyeur", so I had to add the G-rated part.)

We met on Tuesday, June 30th, exactly one month after our first emails to each other. And we didn't even plan that, it was actually organized by our dear friends: Mel & Chris, Ashlee & Tim, who I very much doubt realized it was our pseudo one month anniversary of being in communication... and it was like the only night that would work for all parties.

I was going to write in the post that is long overdue... about how he and I both texted to each other words of how nervous we were before meeting at the sushi restaurant. (Our first meeting was a group date, which meant we'd have audience, which for me = instant nervousness.) Knowing he was nervous too, made me feel less nervous.

I could write about how when we sat at the table- him sitting at the head of the table, me on his right, our nervous personalities came out in full force: me talking too much, him quiet. (He was never quiet when we talked on the phone, so I had to assume this was a nervous thing.)

(Side note: I was told once by my dad that I scare off guys by talking too much when I am nervous. Fathers, this is not great advice to give your daughter right before she leaves for a date, btw. A girl should feel safe to be who she is, chatterbox and all.)

I could share about when Tim, Dave's friend, pulled out a special gift for Dave during dinner,  a gift saved especially for this memorable momentous occassion to give to him (in front of me, of course).

It was a plastic dog poop key chain.

Dave was pretty darn embarassed too. I wondered in my very Cori-like way, what could I say to make him not feel embarassed, when in reality, I'd be just as embarassed if it was me. But I had been warned Tim was a prankster (and he didn't disappoint!) and my understanding is that these sorts of pranks are indicative of true, brother-like friendship.

Right?!

I could also write about how we walked to the gelato shop (Alotto Gelato on 23rd St.) after the sushi (me in my very awkward, yet very sexy new shoes, that very quickly came off as soon as I got in the car on the way home!) and how Dave bought me a cup of chocolate frosted yellow cake gelato (which was absolutely delicious.) And Mel (who was also on the group date), gave him a thumbs up behind his back... 

I could also write that he texted me later that night asking to meet me for coffee the next week at Cafe Delirium. Which became dinner at The Ram that weekend (we talked for over four hours! and then him meeting a handful of friends at a barbeque I planned (so he can meet my friends, of course) a week or so later... they all gave him thumbs up too!

You could say things were developing nicely... Even though I felt nervous and awkward and tentative, oh, and guarded. This was all so, so new to me, and I needed to take a leap of faith.

But I will get into that... next.

first phone calls

I freaked out.

After dozens of past pseudo relationships where I spent months in emailing/online chatting limboland in hopes of going to the next level: real life, phone-callin', making-plans-to-see-each-other, I-can-poke-him-in-the-arm-and-he-can-really-feel-it stuff... you'd think I'd be more ready for this when it actually happened.

This guy was totally pursuing me. He wanted to talk to me. On the phone. Voice to voice.

I freaked out. I read his email before going into work on June 25th. So, as soon as I sit down at my desk that same morning, I turn to my co-worker and very dear gal pal Melanie, and I blurt it all out to her. I tell her he asked to call me.

I am over-the-top, ridiculous. It was like 6th grade all over again when Bobby Shepherd, the classic boy next door (who was in love me since 4th grade), called and asked if he could walk me to school. 

This is big deal stuff! 

Melanie just looks at me and smiles with that terrible knowing smile she can pull off so well. "Cori," she says, "Isn't this all good? Isn't this what you wanted?"

I look at her, and I am reminded of a conversation I had with her about a year before, where we sat at the outdoor seating of McCool's Pub for our lunch hour and I told her, flat out, I'd never, ever meet someone who would ever want to pursue me. (I believe this was around the time of Eharmony Guy #2. My self-worth was really low.) And she said to be patient.

I was also reminded of the encouraging words I read almost every day, pinned to the corkboard above my desk at home (which I also wrote about here):

the Lord wants you to be pursued and treasured by any man you date. You are a beautiful treasure, to be discovered and honored.

"Mel," I plead. "That isn't the point. Yes, it's what I want, but this is all so much. He's actually pursuing me! It feels like I am back on the zip lines in the jungle of Nicaragua and I am scared to death and I know I need to let go so I can enjoy it all... but I can't. Why is this so hard?"

I continued to stew in anxiety at my desk, somehow getting work done. Dave had already begun text messaging (the "technical" step before phone calls), and is being his normal wonderful self. Me: basketcase trying to play it cool. (I am sure if he wrote his side of all of this, he was pretty nervous too.) I know he's waiting for me to tell him when he can call. But I stay silent.

I step away from my desk -- not sure why, probably to do work since that's what I am actually paid to do when I am at work -- and when I return to my desk, I notice I have missed a call.

He called.

At 12:18pm he called and left a voicemail. He called before I told him it was okay. His voice was on my phone, for me to listen to and evaluate to no end.  I turned to Mel. 

"He called. What do I do now?" I sorta squeaked this out, as I began pacing around the office.

I can't remember what she said. (Probably something wise.) I went downstairs to the reception area where Val, my Dating Mentor, works. (Every single gal needs a Dating Mentor. I am blessed to have Val, who also happens to head up the pre-marital mentoring at the church.)

"Cori," she begins. "Calm down. This is what you need to do. Text him back and tell him you are happy he called- because you are. Confirm he did an okay thing in calling. And then suggest a time for you (or him) to call back. You can do it."

I like her suggestion a lot. Even though he called before I said it was okay, really, I liked his intiative. It showed me he could make decisions on his own, and he could take charge. But his message said something about ME calling him back. Me, who at age 28, still avoided calling men on the phone because my mom always said it was an improper thing for Christian ladies to do. But, I am thinking its okay to call him since he suggested it.

We made plans via text messaging for me to call him after I got off work.

And I did. And it wasn't scary. Okay, my finger floated over the send button for about 3 minutes before I could press it. But, really, I was pretty darn calm. We talked about the upcoming "meeting" our mutual friends had planned at sushi restaurant in downtown Portland. He reassured me that a story I told him earlier in our emails about playing with fish guts as a child (hmm, go with me here) was awesome and that I wasn't a freak. We discussed whether we drank alcohol. (Y'know, very important stuff.) He had a great voice, and he said things like, "it was off the hook."  

It was really nice.

The next time we talked on the phone, a couple days later, I was sitting in the Emergency Room at Providence. I had just taken my good friend Joy in because she was really sick, and things were scary and no one knew what was going with her. She is doing better now, fyi, even if doctors don't know what's going on yet. Ironically, Dave still hasn't met her, she reminds me of this fact often.

He called when I was sitting on the floor in a hallway (to get away from the loudness of the ER. When I told him where I was, he asked if he could pray for my friend... and for me.

I melted. He was wonderful. Guys did this? I mean, I knew he was a pastor (that was his job, his calling in life), but this was all so new to me. He cared. He was kind. He prayed for my friend, who I was so scared for, and somehow, while sitting on the hospital floor, the guard I had around my heart began to chip away.

So, I am getting a little nervous writing all this out, since I am learning quite a few friendly spies have been reading up on my new dating adventures. (I think that's the point of blogs anyways!) Dave has ressured me he likes my posts, so I shall continue even if I am blushing profusely and constantly!

where did I leave off?

First, let me introduce him.

His name is Dave. He is 28 (technically I am about 5 months older than him, but I am doubtful that makes me a cougar... right?) He has brown spikey-ish hair, sports funky glasses, and is 5'11" - the exact height I determined my junior year of college to be the perfect height for me. (Long, very silly story.)

Currently, he is on staff at a local church as an assistant youth pastor. Yes, he is a pastor.  He also does the communication and media stuff for the church. Think bulletins & newsletters, PowerPoints, websites and graphics. Think: very busy and a lot of Adobe Photoshop. Think: the guy who everyone depends on to get things done.  

And it get's crazier. He recently joined the staff at a transitional home/shelter for homeless families. He is also finishing his business degree (so he can have a tent-making ministry - which I quickly learned is not an actual tent-making ministry), and if he has some spare minutes... He likes to see or talk to me.

*Blush*

He has a huge heart. It is evident in how he spends his time (serving and pouring into the lives of youth), and by the amazing people he has in his life (I've met some so far, and they are pretty wonderful.)

And he loves the Lord unabashedly. He also likes Mixed Martial Arts, but I haven't held that against him... yet. 

That's a little bit about him... Let me get back to the story.

So, I am exchanging emails with this dude and it's the craziest experience ever. (How's that for fine writing!) But, seriously, it was pretty crazy. I was in the middle of my summer of house-sitting and it felt like every week or so I was writing from a different home. Probably because I was.

I responded to his ad (which he says he will locate and forward to me for my "records") on May 30th, um, at like 2:45am. Yes, it's true. I was perusing the CL ads at 2am. Remember, I liked his ad because he mentioned he was involved in ministry. I wrote back, saying a little bit about myself and that I also worked in ministry.

He wrote back about 12 hours later. I remember the moment actually. I was waiting at the light headed south on Eastman Parkway in Gresham. It must have been a long line, because I had time to check my gmail from my cell phone. He responded: "What kind of ministry? Do you have a pic? Do you have Facebook or Myspace?"

If you aren't familiar with online dating norms, asking for a "pic" is pretty typical, and with the rise of popularity for FB and Myspace, it's pretty common to share those as well... although before you share such a site, one must: 1. weed through all photos and delete any that are the slightlest bit embarassing/bad and 2. update and edit info/profiles to make sure one sounds witty, cool, etc.

My myspace has been pretty much deserted after the Eharmony Guy #2 (see previous post), and sharing FB can be a pretty personal thing, especially if you are me and you share your whole world on it. I frequenly update my status with random info through my twitter and there is a link to my blog... which contains even more intimate info about me.

I am not even close to the ranks of one of my favorite bloggers, Penelope Trunk, with sharing personal details (I particularly like it when she writes about the farmer) but I get it: sometimes when you write, to make the process complete, you need to be read by someone... even if it's only your best girl friends after you force them to click on your blog link.

But, honestly, when you are just beginning to chat up a guy... do you really want to run the risk of him finding this blog post, or the soap opera confession one or well any under "women's business"? Is sharing your Facebook like opening pandora's box? Hmm.

Either it will endear him to you forever, or he will run like a scared little boy. (And, really, there isn't anything bad to find either.)

Dave and I become Facebook friends. Yes, that makes our friendship official y'know.

Around this time, I realize Dave must know/ work with some folks at Eastside I know through some close friends. I ask him about, choosing to provide evidenciary support:

Pictured: Jamil, Rachel, Mel, Me, Ashlee and Tim. Chris is hiding in the back. The picture was taken on Chris's 28th birthday last October (his 28th birthday on the October 28th!) where we had a pumpkin carving party and watched old Simpson's Halloween episodes.

Now, by sending the picture, not only was I proving I knew his friends, but I was also letting it out that this is me. This is what I look like.

 No lying. No pretending to be something you aren't. You share yourself as you are.

So, he writes back and confirms that Tim and Ashlee where definitely his peeps.

Now, emailing is fun. I remember my grandma telling me when I was a little girl about how her and my grandpa wrote letters to each other while he was in the war. I remember thinking it was the most romantic thing ever. (I still feel that way. And now I can peek through the letters!)

Letters are special. Not only to read them over and over again, pour your heart out in cursive and ink, but to have them, all bundled up to treasure forever.

Google Gmail has kept our emails pretty safe, so far. *wink*

But as wonderful as our emails had begun, and how easily things were flowing... I stalled after a week or two of correspondence.

Blame the busy season. (I was really busy.) But I sat with some long-time, good friends Korrin and Steve and revealed that I didn't know if I was going to continue writing... I had various reasons, most of them stemming from fear. Korrin told me I should keep writing him, that I should give him a chance because dating is about learning about who we are... this could be an excellent learning opportunity. To which Steve adamently agreed, saying something like, "Cori, how come you've given all those losers in the past a chance but when someone who obviously loves the Lord comes along you don't give him a chance?"

Yeah. So, I took that to heart. They were right. Of course, they were right.

I kept writing. Our mutual friends began plotting our first meeting/date. I discovered in more emails that Dave was going to Nicaragua this coming Fall/Winter to some of the same places in Nicaragua I went to March 2008. Crazy. Really crazy.

Soon, I got the email from him with three specific questions:

1. What's your opinion on tattoos and piercings?
2. What's a favorite Bible verse?
3. When can I call you?

:)

To be continued...

(Sorry, I need sleep.)

the long-winded version* of how we met (the teaser continues!)

I've said and done a lot of crazy things in my lifetime. Hasn't everyone? One thing I have said, perhaps flippantly at the time, is: "darn it all if I meet the man of my dreams at the grocery store or some normal way after the years and pains I have gone through to meet someone online... I will be really mad!"

(Because you know, it's all up to us...)

Okay, so maybe, just maybe, that wasn't said so flippantly.  Maybe it was said with a lot of passion and frustration after yet another disappointing dating experience or as a pathetic attempt to defend my history of meeting-men-tactics via the world wide web.

There was "Michigan" whom was met an AIM, oh, 8 or so years ago. Who actually flew across the country to meet me- how many girls can say that? He was a good guy. We just had a continent between us.

And some random yahoo personnels and match.com guys I met while attending OSU or shortly after I left in 2004. These experiences are only "good" because of the lessons I learned (I'd share some, but I am still a little embarassed at my foolishness) and the experience of singing in a garage punk band (which was awesome.) **

Then, there was eharmony. Oh, eharmony... Which to this day, makes me want to cry a little and feel ever-so-slightly bitter. Not that people can't find good men and women on it, but for me... well, I met two guys (that I want to count) and both taught me a lot about expectations and experiencing disapppointment. They weren't bad guys, though the second inspired me to go to counseling (which was a very good thing) and the first inspired me and a friend to skip the country. (Really).

After the rejection from Eharmony Boy #1 and #2, where else was I to go? Enter: Craigslist. Yes, for real. After the let down from this guy who ended up lying about his age (and who knows what else), I was stuck. There was a hole in my heart I was trying desperately to fill... and fill fast. I regularly perused the ads, hoping and searching for someone special.

Which resulted in me, last August, sitting in my bedroom crying, NO BAWLING, to my friend Joy over the telephone. I had just spent a half-hour or so reading through another batch of Craigslist ads and I finally had enough! I needed to confess to my friend what I had been doing and how I was feeling: completely worthless and rejected.

And really stupid. (I hate feeling stupid.)

You see, I loved God, which x-ed out all the athiests/non-Christians. I wasn't looking for sex, so this limited me from the many men who just wanted some girl to sleep with them. I am also not a thin, athletic gal, so as soon as one of them typed, "sorry girls, I don't want to be a jerk but no BBWs" I felt rejected again. Even though I knew better than to judge myself with these worldy standards... I felt hopeless that a really good guy would like ever me, so I considered settling for less. (Wow, thats weird to admit.)

I cried on the phone to my friend that there must be something wrong with me... that I must be too fat, too ugly, too goody-goody for anyone to ever date me and make me feel special.

Really. I was in a bad place.

Of course, she listened and told me I was being too hard on myself. And, of course, she told me to stop reading the ads. She said all the right, wonderful things a good friend should say. She reminded me I was looking for acceptance from the world, and I should be focused on the amazing love God has for me. That He accepted me, loved me, found me worthy. And I kept crying because it felt good to get it all out in the open... even if I didn't know what I'd do next. I knew she was right. I let myself be fooled. I believed the lies that the Enemy was feeding me through these ads.

I talked to my counselor about it, and he gave me an assignment. An assignment which may sound a little weird, but it really helped me. He told me to go back to the Craigslist ads (I wonder if this is akin to sending a recovering alcoholic to a bar?) and read them again. Really. But this time read them with new eyes. Ask myself if these guys are worthy of me. Ask myself if these guys love the Lord, if they fit the standards I set for myself long ago. Ask myself if I really liked them. Ask myself if they were good enough for me not if I was good enough for them.

I prayed about it a lot. And then I did it: I read through the ads with my new Godly-chic glasses on.

Wow. What was I thinking? As I read through the ads, I felt the dirtiness and the shame of believing these guys had something I wanted and for letting them make me feel less than what God created me to be: lovely.  

Between my friend's words and the experience re-reading the ads, it was like a lightbulb went off in my head and I realized that I had given these nameless, clueless guys too much power in my life.  What was I thinking? Furthermore, I realized I felt sorry for these guys. They were missing out on something really special, even if they had no idea. Not just me (hehe), but they were missing out on a true love relationship with Jesus Christ. As I read through the ads, I rejected them and their worldly ideas for happiness and worthiness.

I felt empowered.

Now, that doesn't mean I never read/responded to an ad ever again. Honestly, I had a light bulb moment... I didn't change my spots completely.  Actually, I rarely ever responded to an ad in the first place, I mostly just read them and let the words alone reject me. The difference now was: I kept my Godly-chic glasses on.

And, honestly, eventually I just stopped bothering to look at all.

I spent the past year- my 28th year- not focused on dating (though it was always in the back of my mind) but on achieving some big goals in my life and appreciating my singleness. I went back to school. I worked hard at my job and got a really awesome review. I tried some new ministry opportunities. I met new people and developed great new friendships. I felt heartache through some difficult friendship troubles. And through all of it and more, God has been by my side. Even when He felt distant, I knew He was there. 

Then, it happened. I had just finished my last final for Spring term at OSU, and my long-time, good friend Steve and I had made plans to celebrate. It was the first time we had hung out in a long time, and I was quickly reminded of how wonderful it was to spend time with a neat Christian guy (he is an awesome man of God) and, really, the evening was fairly romantic, even though it was entirely platonic. (For the record, Steve is now dating my friend Tessa, so don't be getting any false ideas.) We walked along the beach and talked about God and the church and there were real fireworks- like real ones!

Inspired and reminded that I was created for relationship with a nice, Christian man (and I didn't want to be hiding out forever)... I took a peek and read through some CL ads. (I know, why I looked at the old fishing spot when I should have learned by then to fish in prettier waters... I just don't know.)  

But then I read his. 

Now, I wish I had saved a copy of his ad... (Hopefully he has it somewhere?) Something about his ad was different. I remember he mentioned he was looking for someone to share ministry with. I liked that. I liked it a lot. So, I wrote to him.

And then he wrote me back.

And this continued...  and continued...

(And I began to freak out because maybe this was real? I had guarded myself for so long from actual intimacy... this was entirely new. It's one thing to be "on the hunt" but to actually be in a relationship?! Yikes!)

*wink*

Recently, he wrote to me that my response was the only one he wrote back to... which I know: "best online dating pick up line ever" but he it was sweet and genuine! And I loved it. And both of us truly believe that God was involved in our online meeting... even if we could have totally met in real life because we quickly learned in our emailing that our best friends were friends (crazy!) and they could have totally set us up.

Hmm. God's timing is everything. We also totally "met" several years ago at a Lord Save Us From Your Followers documentary. Our friends stood and talked for a bit. Us? We were just standing there quiet and oblivious. Totally a 'Til There Was You movie moment.)

I am feeling like God cares so much about me right now and my heart to find someone (online) over the years (okay, go with me here I know this makes me sound a little cukoo), that MAYBE of all the ways I could have met this guy... God, in His goodness and awesome humor, chose to do it this way to remind me that He loves me so much and knows me so well to not make feel like a loser who tried and failed so many times?

Am I crazy? Maybe. But who cares! I am happy.

Wait until you hear the rest! He is wonderful. :) Until then... aren't you glad I realized how great and loveable I am?

*Long-winded version? So what if I take a really long time to get the good part. I had a lot to learn first. I still have a lot to learn. This is just the tip of the iceberg, my reading friends.

**It has been recommended to me by several friends over the years to write out all my online dating stories in a novel-type form. Apparently, they are pretty darn funny and even a little twisted. Maybe someday.

a teaser...

Wow.

When I began the summer I had high hopes of reading through a crazy summer reading list, having a lot of free time to take hikes, organizing all my stuff and repainting my room and going on exciting road trips.

Ha!

I did manage to read through a couple books. And I have purchased several more books which will be read through... someday.

Somehow my summer got too exciting for reading the so-serious books I had planned on.

I met a someone special. *wink*

I have real move out plans.

Work is going well. Even with my dear friend and now FORMER boss leaving and moving to Mexico to be a missionary/teacher!

I have spent many, many wonderful days and evenings with friends.

And, did I mention, I met a man? 'Cause I did. And I have to admit... reading his emails and talking to him on the phone and making plans with him... have sooooo beat out my reading list plans.

Ironically, one of the only books I managed to fully finish this summer was How to Get a Date Worth Keeping by Dr. Henry Cloud.

I think it worked. Single friends: you can borrow the book any time, just be fully warned of its potency. I've read A LOT of books about being single, how to date the Christian way, etc. This one clicked differently for me. Maybe it was God's timing, more than the book itself... I don't know.

So, I am working on some posts to spill all (well, not all) of the juicy details. He has given me permission (sorta) to write about him. I asked on our third date. Really. Though I haven't until now... Have just been enjoying it all. :) 

I also mentioned MOVING OUT PLANS! For those who read my post earlier this summer about searching for home-sweet-home, this is an answer to prayer! I will be writing about that too.

And I have a tribute to Rachel in the works.

I have all sorts of thoughts bouncing around in my head, waiting to get out and be read!

Stay tuned.