This Wondrous Love - Chapter Two

A Story of God's Love and Grace - 


Sleepless Nights

(Last paragraph of Chapter One - Happy Anniversary, Sheryl and Skip!  It was evening by the time we got to the pier.  It was just natural to take Tim's arm as we walked.  We fell behind the rest of the group.  It was a cool evening, he gave me his coat, I was falling in love...)

...I'm sure I didn't get much sleep that night.

Tim was going to be at church the next day and then he would be flying home, back up to the Bay Area.  He needed a ride to the airport.  (He picked me.)  It was before 9/11 of course, when you could go all the way up to the gate and say good-bye.  We sat and talked, the clock ticking closer and closer to boarding time.  Tim waited until the last second, he drew me into his arms, kissed me sweetly, and then disappeared with a smile.

I loved his smile.

I know I didn't get much sleep that night.

The rest of November came and went.  I spent little time in class, except for my Bible classes.  (Yes, I was a rebel.)  I did go to the required chapels - I loved them.  I also worked my dorm maintenance job which I actually enjoyed.  My dorm room was at the end of a very long hall.  There were two phones in the hall to serve about one hundred girls.  My roommate was engaged.  She had a phone installed in our room.  Now half the calls coming in were to me.  Most of my earnings went to pay my phone bill.  Each toilet I scrubbed meant at least five minutes on the phone with Tim.  It was worth it!  There were letters.  I loved to write letters.  I would write each day, sending Tim puzzle pieces to my life, and after a few days I would put the compilation into an envelope and mail it off.  I learned Tim was not a letter writer.  A phone call was his thing but every once in awhile he would manage to get a letter off to me.  That he would take the time to write, a task he didn't really enjoy, told me how much he cared for me.

In December, just after Christmas, Tim flew me up to the Bay Area.  I stayed through New Years.  Tim owned his own home which he shared with a couple of roommates.  I stayed with his parents who lived just a couple of miles away.  Tim and Sheryl's parents were wonderful.  We hit it off from the start of my friendship with Sheryl. They loved me.  I loved them.  They were thrilled about my budding relationship with Tim.  Dad was a big tease and he loved to tease me and I loved it when he teased me.  Dad was also a kindred spirit in that he loved the Lord and His Word.  We had some great conversations regarding spiritual things.  

January was Tim's turn to make a quick flight down over a weekend.  He stayed with Sheryl and Skip.  We hung out at their house.  Tim and Sheryl and Skip came over and had dinner with my family at my house - I usually went home on the weekends.  All my siblings liked Tim.  Our families had just plain fun together.  There was much laughter.  Skip and Sheryl called my mom "Mother", just like her five children did.  Tim went to church with me on Sunday, and then it was back home again.  More letters and phone calls, and another huge phone bill.  (Tim's phone bill was just as big.  We switched back and forth.  I would call him and then the next night he would call me.  We talked for at least an hour each night, sometimes two.  I didn't have time for homework, so why go to class?)  The girls in the dormitories loved to pull pranks on each other.  One afternoon I pushed a toilet stall door open, getting ready to pay for another five minutes on the phone with Tim.  Half a male mannequin (from the waist up) was jutting out of the toilet.  I screamed.  Several girls came running into the bathroom.  We all had a good laugh.  I endured several practical jokes, but it was worth the time I got to spend with Tim on the phone.

I knew February would be my turn to fly up again.  I finagled it out of Sheryl that Tim had asked her about my ring size.  I just knew he was going to ask me to marry him!  When he picked me up at the airport he was unusually quiet.  He walked me up to his parent's apartment, didn't stay long, and went home.   The smile that I loved just wasn't there.  I knew something was up.  I definitely had trouble getting to sleep that night.  He picked me up the next morning.  We headed over the Santa Cruz mountains to Mt. Herman, a Christian Conference Center.  We were going to spend the day there.  His pastor owned a beautiful home in the area.  We had use of the fireplace for the afternoon.  The ride over was very quiet.  A knot lay in my stomach.  Before going to the home, we went for a walk in the woods.  I asked Tim what was wrong.  He hemmed and hawed, then finally told me he had planned to ask me to marry him, but he was getting cold feet.  He wasn't sure if I was the right girl for him.  I spent the next twenty minutes, talking non-stop (which was totally out of character for me!), declaring my love to him.  I told him I desired to be his wife, his helpmeet, and that I wanted to be married to him!  He seemed to relax and the smile returned.  

We went to the pastor's house - Tim lit a fire in the fireplace.  We talked.  We talked some more.  Then, out of the blue, Tim stood up.  He pulled a small blue, velvet box from his pocket.  One of his knees dropped to the floor.  He looked up at me.  He smiled - and then I caught my breath as he asked me the question almost every girl dreams about being asked...