I’m in the bookstore. There, on the very top shelf, is the book I want. I cannot see the title, but I know it will be a great story. I reach for it, but it is too high. Then I see a hand grab it, and I look behind me. It’s him!! I would know him anywhere. But who is he? He silently hands me the book. He smiles at me and gives me a curt nod, then turns to walk away.
“Wait!” I call. He turns around. Darkness enshrouds him, so I cannot see his face. But I know by the way he stands, that his expression is one that exudes confidence, boldness.
“You’re the one, aren’t you?” I ask uncertainly.
“What’s your name?” I continue to question, a little more boldly.
He shakes his head and speaks. His voice is a melodic tenor.
“It is not yet the time. God intends for us to grow up a little more before we cross paths in reality. We both must wait patiently, and that book,” he points to the book in my hands, “will contain a beautiful story that God has written just for us.”
And he turns around and walks away.
I stare at the book. It has no title. I open the first page. It’s the story of my childhood, my teenage years, and my life up to now. Then in the middle, it cuts off. All blank pages from the middle to the end.
How frustrating!!! I always read the ending of a story first. And this time it is not possible.
And….I wake up with a start. I’m in my bed in my familiar room, and there is naught but darkness around me. It was just a dream…the same recurring dream that has haunted my sleep for the past two years.
This past weekend was my parents’ 30th anniversary party. My grandparents came down, and it was interesting to hear how my grandparents met and how my parents met.
My grandma and grandpa met at church. My grandma was a prim and proper young lady who never got into trouble. My grandpa was mischievious and daring. So of course, opposites attracted. My grandma was playing the organ one Sunday, and my grandpa happened to see her. He was curious as to who the girl playing the organ was, so he looked up her name and found out who she was. And things just clicked.
My mom and dad were also very different from each other. My dad revealed to us that the first time he saw her, she was just simply walking down the stairs. A photographic moment. My mom told me she was not the least bit attracted to him when she first met him, but my grandma liked my dad, so my mom gave him a chance. The first time they met face to face was on Thanksgiving. My dad was a friend my mom’s family friend, so they were invited for Thanksgiving at my mom’s house. My grandma wasn’t home to make dinner, so my 2nd to oldest uncle made the turkey. My parents said that the turkey was burned, but the dinner was nice overall. And they got to meet each other.
I wonder what story will be in my book…what God’s creative mind has in store for me.
And for you. One day, my friends, you must remember to tell me how you met your significant other.