[Click here to read Part 1]    [Click here to read Part 2]

I’ll never forget where I was when I realized that my husband was “the one.”

I was in my car driving alone down San Felipe in Houston. Jason and I had known each other for ten days and had been on, maybe, three dates.

But something felt different. Wrong even. After only ten days, I didn’t have my usual dating anxiety. I didn’t stay awake at night and wonder what he was thinking. I didn’t care that we hadn’t “defined our relationship.” It didn’t bother me that we hadn’t kissed. I didn’t feel worried if a day went by and he didn’t call.

The whole thing was very, very strange.

So as I was driving down the road, I was talking to myself, analyzing, praying and trying to put my finger on why I wasn’t feeling all of those usual things. For awhile, I thought, “Is this apathy? Am I not worried because I don’t care?”

But somehow in the stillness of the moment, I heard God speak. “You’re not worried because you have nothing to worry about. This is what peace feels like.”

Peace? That was a completely foreign concept to my dating life. I had felt pressure, frustration, euphoria, despair, and confusion before, but never peace.

Before Jason, I didn’t even refer to my boyfriends by their names. I had trained my sweet Italian grandma, MeeMaw, to ask me how “that boy” was doing whenever she wanted to know about my dating life. That way, she didn’t have to keep up with the names of random guys who blew in and out of my life as if they had their own Mary Poppins umbrellas. Instead, she could inquire, “How’s that boy you’re dating?” and I could say, “Just fine,” and we could have the same exact conversation at Easter as we did at Christmas and it didn’t matter if we were referring to the same guy or not.

But with Jason, I felt like I could tell my MeeMaw his name and not have to retract it months later.

I remember telling God, “I’m worried because this relationship is so different than any other relationship I’ve ever had.”

I think I may have heard God laugh. “You mean those relationships that never worked out and left you feeling empty and alone? It’s not like those relationships? And you’re worried because…?”

Finally, somewhere along San Felipe, it all clicked. Jason was “the one” and this relationship was “it.” God was drawing me closer to Jason and Jason was drawing me closer to God. Respect came before attraction. Trust came before physical contact. And peace came before love.  Not once did I feel as though I’d found a boyfriend. Instead I felt as though I’d found a partner. And for the first time ever, I didn’t feel the desire to rush to the next stage of a relationship. I was willing and prepared to allow God to move us together as slowly as He desired.

When I tried, like all girls do, to explain my feelings to my friend, she laughed and asked, “So what would you do if he asked you to marry him?”

I said, “I have no idea why, but I would totally say yes!”

One of the hardest parts about things going well, though, was admitting it to my parents. After all, they were the ones who had prayed for us before we ever even met. No one wants to face an “I told you so,” if they can avoid it.

My father was on a mission trip to Vietnam when I told my mom, Sammie, that it was going well. She just smiled and said, “I wonder if he’s just waiting for your dad to get back from Vietnam so he can ask you to marry him.”

I assured her that that was NOT the case. “Just because I know he’s the one doesn’t mean he knows yet!” I insisted. We hadn’t talked about marriage at all. We hadn’t even talked about making our relationship exclusive. We hadn’t talked about anything and I felt no need to do so any time soon. “I think it will happen eventually,” I said, “but it will probably take a couple of years. And I’m okay with that.”

But for the first time ever, God decided to move quicker (instead of slower) than I expected.

[to be continued]

Q: When did you know your husband was “the one”?