This is a story I had hoped to publish a month ago, but for various reason I didn’t–but I thought I’d share it with you today!  I wrote this story because I like writing about my life, my experiences, my emotions, and I think people like reading about them. Not because they are about me, but  because we all like reading about real people and real life.  I also think it helps you, my friends, get to know me a little better beyond the superficial.  I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing about it.

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I circled the block at least 3 times, hoping that each pass would give me the courage to do what I felt I had to do. Ironically, each pass did not instill in me any more courage but only opened the door for more doubt. It was now or never. Putting the car in park, I made my way to the front door. I rang the doorbell and my knees grew weak. This would be my chance to run, but would I get a second chance? Seconds felt like hours as I waited for the door to open.

Riveting, isn’t it? Before we move forward, here’s a little background on the situation.

The day before all of this, a good friend of mine was married to a good friend of hers (and a day before that, I was in Goodwill dressing up in drag with said friend’s soon to be husband, but that is another story for another time). At this wedding was a certain bridesmaid I had been exchanging e-mails with for the previous 3 months or so; we had some common interests that sparked some conversation. I was anxious to meet her face-to-face. The day before the wedding we finally met and, unfortunately, only had time for a few short (very short) conversations; nothing of any real significance.

The door opens.

“Is Lydia here?”
“I’ll go get her.”

This is the part where I would like to say “it sounded much better in my head.” In not so many words, I told her that I liked her. Then, hoping to lighten the mood, I asked her if she’d like to grab a cup of coffee sometime. Asking a girl who was only hours away from boarding a plane back to New Zealand to “grab a cup of coffee sometime” doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. In my mind, I was implying “hey, who knows, maybe we’ll see each other again in the future, hopefully soon.” In reality it seemed like I had no concept of time, distance or the cost associated with traversing said distance (hey, I was under a lot of stress). For the sake of my own pride, I’ll spare you all of the other little awkward details. The outcome was more realistic than what I had envisioned in my head. While flattered (and a little confused), she wisely requested that we remain friends; and we are still friends
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So that was two and a half years ago, and when I wrote this a month ago we were still just friends, but over the last month we’ve seen our friendship grow into something more; a beautiful relationship for which we can only thank God!  Sounds so serious, I know (and it is), and don’t get me wrong, I could talk for HOURS about Lydia and I can’t seem to stop smiling but what I still can’t get over is the fact that all of this just makes me love Christ so much more.

It is amazing what God will do when we are patient (but persistent) and allow Him to unfold His plan in front of us.  Life moves at an insane pace, much too fast for me to try to steer my life on my own–I must trust in God, in everything.  The Bible doesn’t really talk about the role of “boyfriend”, but this verse has been in my mind this year:

“Be watchful, stand firm in the faith, act like men, be strong. Let all that you do be done in love.” I Cor 16:13-14

To all of you “boyfriends” out there, God is calling you to be men.  Your girlfriends want you to be men.  So, let’s be men.

Paul and Lydia, 2007

EDIT: Read Lydia’s addition to my story on her blog here: http://drlyds.blogspot.com/2010/02/no-pressure-paul.html

Have I ever told you about the time I was engaged in a 14 hour conversation?  This conversation that started with three people, dwindled to two and eventually (with the aid of a stranger) finished with three?  Stop me if you’ve heard this one…

A few years ago, while I was living in North Texas, I was a member of the Village Church and a member of a home group (Coley’s home group, or the Lewisville  Single Guys 25ish-30+ Home Group to be terribly specific).   Our home (or small, cell, life, care, etc) group was on the brink of overflowing which led to the invention of small, small groups–rotating groups of 2-3 guys that would meet outside of regular home group time–which was a brilliant idea because a small group of 15-20 guys can’t even share a meal together let alone “do life” together.  That’s the background.

If you’ve never eaten at a Waffle House, you are missing out on an interesting cultural experience. It’s Saturday morning, 10AM, and I’m meeting with my small (small) group for breakfast and to just catch up.  Aaron and Tres and I share a meal and a few laughs.  About an  hour later, Tres has to leave leaving Aaron and I chatting in the parking lot.  I don’t remember exactly what we talked about, but I’m absolutely positive it involved government and the Church and that it was a “lively” conversation.  Aaron was, at one time in life,  on the debate team, and I just like to argue.  After standing in the parking lot of Waffle House for a few hours, we thought it best to move our conversation to a local Starbucks.

If you’ve never spent 9 hours at your local Starbucks, then you’re totally not getting your money’s worth. I think I bought 1 drink the entire time we were there.  We sat inside, we moved outside, then back inside talking about politics and religion and music.  A lady even offered an answer to a random trivia question that had escaped both of us.  I would say she was listening in, but it was more like got tired of trying to tune us out.   And then we began talking about our church and the great things going on there and in China.  That is when a complete stranger put down her book and confessed that our conversation was more interesting than what she was reading and asked to join in.  After warning her that this was now hour 8 or 9 of our “discussion”, our group was back at three.  We’re talking about books and God and music and movies and overseas mission trips.  That’s when the polite (and rather tolerant) Starbucks staff kicked us out at 10pm.  Realizing that we hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast, and with so much left to be said, the three of us decided that IHOP was the only logical solution.

If you’ve never been to IHOP after 10pm…  wait, has anyone been to IHOP before 10PM?  Our conversation picks up where it left off only now we have food to sustain us.   As Sunday morning rolls around ,(1am-ish) Aaron, our new friend Anna, and I decide to call it a night and we head our separate ways.  Actually, Aaron had to drive me back to Waffle House to get my car–which thankfully was still there.  We fought the urge to head back into Waffle House for round two.

I learned three very important lessons from this marathon conversation:

1.   Always discuss politics and religion.  Yes, it is painful and yes people’s feelings will get hurt, but anything that is of any importance and worth discussing will eventually be painful and will eventually hurt people’s feelings.

2.   Always talk to strangers.  Even the strange guys discussing everything under the sun at Starbucks.

3.   Always eat lunch.  Seriously,  I mean, we didn’t do anything but talk ALL day and somehow we MISSED lunch!?  Honestly, I’m ashamed of myself…

I was reading my journal today and I found this statement on the front page interesting.  (It’s not vain to quote yourself, is it?)

“There is something freeing that happens when the ink rolls across the page.  The pages that follow will be landmarks and benchmarks; Not of epic events, but of the mundane; the everyday.  They will show my progress…”

I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t write in my journal (or blog) daily.  If the pages of my journal are benchmarks, what do all of the blank pages mean?  What progress was made between the dates of August 13 and December 31 of 2008?

At first I thought it meant I was lazy and while that’s true, I think the real problem is that I love the idea of tomorrow more than today.  I’m a dreamer.  Tomorrow has unlimited potential while today is boring and filled with tasks and chores.  I like the concept of journaling–having an outlet for reflection and a means of seeing growth in incremental steps–more than I like actually writing in a journal.  Just the thought of reading old journal entries gets me excited, but I often fail to make the connection that I’ll actually have to WRITE SOMETHING TODAY to have something to look back on tomorrow.

The same can be said for my blog.  In my head, every entry will be of great significance causing dozens of people (I’m still grounded in reality) to engage in thought and dialogue both online and offline.  I begin to compose said entries in my head, complete with witty titles, but they seldom make it to the screen.

“Talk does not cook rice” says the Chinese proverb and my intentions don’t put words on paper or blog entries online.  I have an “action” problem, but I think I’m getting better at it.  I guess we’ll find out over the next few days and weeks.

Speaking of the next few days, I’m leaving for Peoria, Illinois tomorrow morning with the cross-country team for Nationals.  This trip will be all sorts of fun;  I’ll post pictures and write about it, I promise!