I guzzled down a styrofoam cup of cold water in preparation. I turned up the master volume, and dialed back the microphone a bit. I grabbed the bulletin and took my seat.
March, 2014. It was a Prophecy Conference at Berean Baptist Church. In a few moments I was to walk up on the stage and sing a song to open the service.
I rehearsed the first few lines of the song in my head, and swallowed hard to clear my throat. I looked down at my name on the bulletin as the preacher called my name to come and sing.
I sauntered up to the podium, praying Let this be for your glory, Lord.
Sometimes things get a little fuzzy when you’re up there singing all by yourself. It’s borderline scary, and usually includes a few butterflies. For me, I’m a bit nearsighted, so when I’m on stage facing a mob of people… chances are, I can’t really see them. I see fuzzy colorful blobs with round heads. Oh, a beard! Yep, that one’s got facial hair.
I sang to the blobs, then walked down and sat through an hour of prophecy and End Times analysis by a preacher whose wireless lapel mic I could just not get to work properly. Thankfully he wasn’t a “wanderer” as us sound techs fondly call them, so the recording turned out just fine thanks to a super podium microphone.
And suddenly it was time for a goodie break. Yes!
Everyone romped into the fellowship hall to consume their caffeine and cookies. I was in the midst of lunging for a delicious looking treat and some watered-down lemonade when I happened to look up at a new face I hadn’t seen in the blob mob. Nearsightedness can make life so exciting sometimes.
In walked this blonde guy, skinny as a rail, and with crazy blue eyes. Like, there’s icy blue, grey-blue, sky-blue, and then there’s crazy blue. These were crazy blue. Like somebody cranked up the contrast on a cloudless atmosphere. *swoon*
Talk to him. My conscience was prodding me. He was cute. Maybe he’s single. I blushed.
Before I knew it, I was walking up to him, asking how he was and what his name was.
Seth. Seth! His name is Seth! Seth and Rissa sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i… Oh my word. Keep it together.
Pretty soon we were sitting at a table discussing what we did for work and how he ended up coming to a prophecy conference at a church he doesn’t typically attend.
Call it fate. Call it God. Call it whatever you want… but the perfect person for me was sitting in front of me, and the chances of it happening were extremely slim. But they were there.
Did I think I’d be spending the rest of my life with this handsome, crazy-blue-eyed man? (Okay, so I was kinda crushing on him and the thought crossed my mind ever so briefly, but…) Nope!
Even though I didn’t know it at that moment, I was having my first conversation with the one who, two years later, I’d be blessed enough to call my husband.