On September 7th, 2009, I arrived in Orlando, Florida feeling bruised, beaten, and weary from the war of life. I had sunk into a deep depression and the words, "I'm alone. No one will fight for me," ran constantly through my mind. Upon expressing this thought aloud, a hearer would often say, "God will fight for you--He already has!" In my mind I knew this was true. I had gone through the Bible and read stories about God fighting for his people--David and Goliath, Moses and the Red Sea, The Tower of Babel, and God's promise of Jesus' return--but I hadn't experienced it in my life. I came to Orlando, in large part, to search for the experience of being fought for.
I began to see glimpses of God's fight for me over the first 18 months of my life here. I had been going through individual counseling and then later joined a group at my church focused on recovering from life's "hurts, habits, and hang-ups." These were are both integral to my discovery of who God was as my rescuer. I had dug deep into my life and saw the foundation of this false belief and began to correct my misperceived views of God. Things were really looking up and life had become not just tolerable but enjoyable. Then in March of this year my life's story changed through a dramatic climax.
I had been living with two girls I had met through church friends. At first, the living arrangements seemed ideal as the girls had been becoming great friends. They seemed to love God and serving Him. Slowly, however, our relationships began to unravel. My roommates had become distant. Their smiles and niceties had become less and less genuine. When I approached them about it they agreed that their was issues but refused to work through them with me. I expressed that I would begin making plans to move out but I couldn't get anything together fast enough for them, so they eventually asked me to leave and gave me a short deadline. This just reopened old wounds from my past that I was finally beginning to heal.
As devastating as the situation was, God began to work quickly. I had sought Him for guidance through the whole situation and stepped out well beyond my comfort zone in my attempt to reconcile with these girls. I believe that God awarded my efforts in taking me from that house to a new life. He provided a great place to live and a friend with whom to share it. That's only the beginning. He also provided a friend to walk with me through the move but also throughout life.
Andrew, upon hearing of my urgent situation, offered to help move out of the old house and store my things in his place until I could move into my new place. Being in desperate need, I accepted his generosity. Throughout the month that my things were being stored in his place, he continued to go above and beyond to help me through the emotional scars that were forming. He not only cared about my physical well-being but emotional and spiritual as well. The more I got to know him through this process, the more I wanted to know him and spend time with him. It appeared that Andrew felt similarly about me as he began to pursue me. Walking me to my car at every opportunity and then standing there with me as we talked for hours. Going with me back to my old house to pick stuff up that I might have some moral support. Then it became cooking me dinner late at night when I came to pick up things from his house which I needed (or maybe I didn't really need them but looked forward to another chance to see him).
We quickly fell in love, though unspoken, as we grew closer and made deeper commitments to one-another we began to show each other in the daily ways we spoke to each other and honored each other. I had been learning to stand up for myself and he stood by me as I ventured into this unchartered world of respecting myself. He began calling me out on the times I wanted to back down. Andrew started to stand up for me in ways that I didn't know how. He encouraged me to follow God even if it meant being away from me for a month as I traveled to Slovakia on a mission to reach Slovak high school students. Then, finally, all the concealed feelings of pursuing a Godly relationship gave way.
Andrew and I had spoken many times about the possibilities of a future together. I had a sense that he would soon ask for my hand but had no clue when or how. A couple of Sundays ago, we commenced in our weekly routine of meeting up at church after I got out of work for the evening service. We then attended a worship/prayer gathering with some of the other leaders of the youth ministry we volunteered with together at the church. All seemed fairly usual--even Andrew being a little out of it. Afterwards he walked me to my car as we chatted with another couple. I recall reminiscing about all the times we had stood by my car in that parking lot talking just as we were with that couple on that night.
After the couple left, I asked Andrew what he wanted to do. After waffling in his answer for a few minutes, he finally said, "Do you want to go to the beach?" This question took me aback a bit as it was already 9:30pm and the beach was a good hour away. Not to mention, I hadn't been home since work. However, late night trips to the beach had occurred a couple times before and we had really enjoyed the beauty and intimacy of those nights. So, we planned to meet up at my place in a short time to make our trip.
We arrived at the beach sometime after 11pm. As we sat by the water, watching the ocean creep up the shore and listening to the musical tones of water on sand, we talked about our day. Then, Andrew turned and said to me, "Bethany, the reason I brought you down here is because I love you and I want to marry you. Do you want to marry me?"
As soon as he said "I love you" my breath seemed to go out of me and was barely able to whisper, "I do...and I love you, too." I had almost forgotten to say "I love you" after biting my tongue with those words for so long. I was so speechless at that moment and could barely even get those few words out, so as he put his arm around me (not a habit we've gotten into as we are reserving physical affection for marriage), I sat there and just soaked in the moment.
 |
| Andrew and I at Summit Church's beach baptism--a year after my own beach baptism and our first time walking together under the stars at the beach. |
In the days to follow, it's become more and more a reality that I'm marrying the man of my dreams. Two years ago, I had arrived in Orlando broken and helpless; feeling like I was alone in the world and forgotten. I was weak. I couldn't stand up for myself and I just went with whatever the day brought me. I gave into whatever I was told by those around me. As time went on, God showed me more and more in small ways that He was there to fight for me. He showed me that I was His daughter, a princess, and that He would always protect me. I was finally beginning to grasp that when the situation came about with my roommates and I began to think, "Again, God? Really?" when Andrew arrived on his white stallion (okay, it was an old bruised Honda Civic, but who's keeping track) to rescue me from what seemed to be a high tower. He's continued to show me that he is there for me and not only fights for me but also encourages me to stand strong in my personal battles. He walks alongside me in the battlefield.
I had often been concerned early on in my relationship with Andrew that I would start to depend on him to fight for me more than God. As our relationship has developed--and now we're getting married!--I have realized that God gave me Andrew as an example of how He fights for me.
Ephesians 5:21-33 has confirmed this for me in seeing how marriage--the relationship between a man and his wife--is an example of Christ--the relationship between Jesus and His people.
I now know with all my heart that God fights for me.
