My Very Own Love Story pt. 7

The "end of college" calendar had already been set for both of us. Each of our club socials were on the same night, so we didn't go together to either one. Both of our graduation ceremonies were on the same day at the same time, so neither of us attended the other's. We were busy tying up loose ends, packing, and moving out of our college towns. Honey was getting ready for his last summer at Blue Haven, I was sending job applications and waiting for interviews. I also had a few camps that I was helping with as a sort of last minute fill-in.

Before Honey left for camp, we planned for me to visit him twice on his days off. He invited me to fly in for his family reunion, so that was an added bonus. We both decided that if we were going to really find out what our relationship was made of, we needed to live in the same town. This distance thing had gone on long enough. Our plan was that I would find a job teaching wherever I felt God taking me. When camp was over, Honey would apply for jobs in my area that would use his business degree. It seemed like a solid plan, and by the end of June, I'd signed a contract to teach my dream job (first grade classroom in a low-income school) and secured an apartment 2 hours from my hometown, in Honey's college town.

I started cleaning and moving in to my new classroom. I met the other teachers in my grade level and immediately enjoyed the mentoring that they offered. I was excited to meet my class and begin my first year of teaching. All I needed to make my life complete was Honey, and in a matter of weeks, I'd have that reality, too.

About a week before Honey was finished with camp, he called my new apartment. I was surprised to hear from him since it was the middle of the week and phone time at camp was very limited, especially in the evenings. He wanted to share something important. Through some contacts at camp, he'd been asked to interview for a youth ministry position. About 2 1/2 hours away from where I'd just signed a 1 year contract. In a town, just outside of my college town.

In that moment, I learned that it's OK for man to make plans, but God almost always had other ideas. A week after camp was over, Honey was sitting in the living room of my apartment telling me that he felt called into this youth ministry position. It was a trial basis type thing. The church didn't know if they could afford to pay another full time minister, and since he had a business degree, Honey didn't know if he would enjoy youth ministry. They would try it for a semester and re-evaluate at the end of the year. He would be moving to this town as soon as he could get his stuff together.

I was great with all of that. Who was I to mess with God calling people to do things? I felt just as called to be in the town I was in, preparing for the job I was preparing for. OK, it was a little bit ironic. After 2 years of being long distance, we switched towns and continued to be long distance. But I was up for it. We'd done it before, right?

But there was more that Honey wanted to share. He wanted to officially define our relationship because we hadn't ever really done that after the whole dress shopping time. He wanted to break up, or call it off, or stop seeing me, or whatever it was called when you ended whatever we were doing. He needed to be free from the obligations of a serious long distance relationship so he could fully focus on this new calling. He didn't want me to spend an undetermined amount of time waiting on him, and he didn't want to feel pulled in a direction that wasn't focused on the ministry.

Surprisingly enough, I was OK with that, too. Well, I was sad, but I was at peace. I didn't doubt that some day we would be together, I just really didn't know when. I was so sure that we would end up together that I didn't even tell my co-workers we'd "broken up". I just waited. The kind of waiting that says, "Technically, I'm single, but emotionally, I'm not available."

A week passed and Honey stopped by my place on his way to his new job. His mom was with him and they took me out to eat. I'm not sure if they stopped because Honey wanted to or because his mom insisted, but, nevertheless, we had a lovely time, awkward, but lovely.

When they were loading up to finish their drive, Honey hugged me one last time, and for a moment the "break-up awkwardness" that seemed to follow us everywhere was gone. Neither of us were sure when we would see or speak to each other again. I reassured him that he had no obligations to me, and that I had no hard feelings for him. I wanted him to do what he needed to do to fulfill his calling. I let him know that I would love to keep in touch.

As I watched his truck drive away, I told myself that surely he would call sometime during the first week.

Late that night the phone by my bed rang. "Hey, were you asleep?" his warm voice greeted me.

I smiled sleepily, "I'm surprised to hear from you. How's it going?"

"I dropped Mom off and came to unload some stuff in my new office. I was getting ready to leave, but it didn't feel right until I called you. I wanted to share these first few moments with you."

"Mmm, tell me about it," I replied as I snuggled deeper under my covers. I was content to take whatever he could give.

We went on like that for a couple of months. E-mail had been invented by then, and so we sent those every day. We usually talked on the phone at night. I went to visit him a couple of times. I loved meeting the church family that was providing for him.

By Thanksgiving, he'd made some decisions, and things really started to move. He loved youth ministry and planned to pursue it, but he also loved me and wanted to pursue our relationship. He knew he'd be a much more effective youth minister with a partner. He left that church at Christmas and moved to my town. After the first of the year he took a job at a car dealership until he could figure out how to pursue youth ministry.

By February we were engaged. We set the date for July. My mom was a nervous wreck, trying to pull a wedding together in 4 months, but she pulled it off. As you've seen, it really was a beautiful wedding. My mom has impeccable taste when it comes to stuff like that.

And the rest, as they say, is history.

After we were married, we placed membership at a local church and volunteered in their growing youth ministry. We worked in that ministry for about a year until Honey had the opportunity to go to a small town and work with a program that had about 40 kids. It was the perfect size for a couple with only a few summers of working at a youth camp for experience.

And 10 years later, here we are. After many mountains and valleys, our married life has proven to be just as exciting as our courtship. Through it all we've learned to depend on God and cling to one another. And to be thankful that at least we live in the same town.

My Very Own Love Story pt 6

In the fall, we started our Senior year. New Guy and I continued to "date". I know. The only explanation I have is that it was fun to have a date to all the Sr. stuff. Other than that, I'm not sure why we stayed together. I don't think either of us were that in to it.

Despite my ongoing relationship with NG, Honey and I kept in touch. He was working at the bookstore that year and so every once in a while I would get a postcard he'd dropped in the mail while working. He called every couple of weeks or so. In between postcards and phone calls, we'd write letters. It was nice finding our way back to friendship after being estranged for so long.

A couple of days before the spring semester began, NG and I "broke up". I was sad for a while, but I started student teaching and began planning for graduation. That seemed to ease my sadness.

That semester was THE spiritual turning point in my life. I truly learned what it means to surrender all to Jesus. I came to terms with the fact that I was going to graduate from college a single female . . . with no impending marriage . . . no man to take care of me. I was OK with that. I was willing to stay single as long as it took, maybe even forever. I was in covenant relationship with God, confident in my abilities, and excited about what God had in store for me.

One Saturday, towards the end of April, I took my teaching exit test. (I don't remember the particular acronym now . . . the ECET, the EXET, something or other . . . ) Whatever the acronym, it was a grueling 2 part test that took, literally, all day. It wasn't really hard per se, but it started at 7:00 that morning and lasted until 4:00 or so that afternoon. We probably had a lunch break in there somewhere, but I really don't remember. I just remember thinking, how many more questions are there?

I'd gotten out of bed that morning, put on the first comfortable pair of sweats I could find and thrown my hair in a ponytail. I'm not even sure I washed the makeup off of my face from the night before. I'm sure I was a sight. The test giver was probably just as horrified to look at me from 7:00 to 4:00 that day as I was to sit at that desk with my #2 pencil for that long. We were all ready for the day to be over.

On the way home I was looking forward to a long shower and a quiet evening. One of my roomies was gone for the weekend and the other was going to a spring formal. I just had to get home, help her get dressed, take some pictures of her and her date, and my duties for the day would be over. At most I was going shopping to find a dress for graduation. But that could be put off until Sunday afternoon if I wanted.

We lived on one side of a duplex on a street lined with duplexes. Across the street was an all but abandoned shopping center. The parking lot served as extra parking spaces for the college kids that lived 3 and 4 per side of each duplex. There was never parking available in the driveways. We always had to park across the street. The parking lot always resembled a used car lot, but every car was familiar.

As long as I live I will never forget turning the corner into the parking lot. There was something different about it. Almost immediately I saw a gold truck. My stomach flipped, my heart raced. Honey's gold truck was practically in my driveway! What in the world!?

I was shaking as I opened the door to the house. And there he was, sitting on my couch, smiling that smile. I was surprised, no, shocked. "Hey! What are you doing?" I asked with a nervous giggle.

"I came to see you," he answered.

About that time my roommate, Cat, appeared. She was way beyond proud of the little surprise she'd helped pull off. "You knew about this, didn't you?" I asked.

"Of course. How do you think he got in the house?" she answered with a smile. I made them tell me every single detail about how they'd pulled this little surprise off. When I was satisfied that I knew everything, Cat asked, "I just put a run in my panty hose, do you mind going to Walmart and getting me another pair? I've got to finish my hair."

Still not quite myself yet, I said, "Sure." I didn't know what to do. Surely Honey didn't want to go panty hose shopping, but I didn't have another solution. Then turning to Honey I asked, "Do you want to come with?"

He answered, "I'll do whatever you want me to do. I'm here to see you."

So we drove the few blocks to Walmart, picked up 2 pair of hose . . . just in case, and headed back to the house. It wasn't long until Cat was gone and we were alone. By that time I'd come to my senses and realized how I must have looked. I sheepishly suggested that Honey go grab us some fast food for dinner while I took a shower. I didn't plan on looking like I'd just rolled out of bed when the man of my dreams had driven 2 hours to possibly sweep me off my feet into my happily ever after.

When he returned with dinner, I was more comfortable with how I looked. I was eager to spend some time with Honey without the cloud of "dating someone else" or " dorm fire" or "distance" hanging over our heads. We ate together, and as we talked the months of being apart melted away. He relived the chaos of the months after the fire. He told me about his time in Germany. I filled him in on the summer at Blue Haven. We shared our excitement about graduation and job possibilities. He told me that he was returning to Blue Haven for one more summer before he started a "real job". I shared that I was planning on spending the summer at home, applying for jobs.

I told him about my spiritual growth over the last semester. I told him that I'd been applying all over the state for teaching positions and was allowing God to direct my path. I planned on going wherever He sent me.

At some point after dinner, Honey asked me what my plans were for the evening.

"I didn't really have much of a plan. I was thinking about going to the mall. I need a dress for graduation. I'm sure that's the last thing you wanted to do when you decided to visit, go dress shopping."

"I don't care what we do," he repeated, "I came to see you. I'll go dress shopping with you."

So we went. Because there wasn't anything else to do in my small college town. I'm a pretty decisive shopper. We went to one store and Honey helped me pick out about 5 dresses that fit the criteria I was looking for. I tried on each one while Honey sat in the plush chairs outside the dressing rooms. I showed him every dress but he was no help. He liked them all. I eventually picked one and we headed to the shoe department.

We really did have fun shopping together. It only took an hour or so to put my ensemble together. After that we strolled around the mall for a while. It was so easy spending time with him. The only awkwardness came because before, when we first dated, we would have been holding hands while we strolled the mall. This time we weren't sure exactly where in the relationship we were, so we went out of our way to keep from touching. Even though all I really wanted was for him to grab my hand or wrap me up in a bear hug, the way he used to.

Everything felt like it used to. The conversation was easy, trusting each other felt natural, the sparks were there, just like before. Accept things weren't the same. We were different than we'd been two years earlier. We'd grown and matured, and we both knew that if we got back together, it could very well be forever. I don't think either of us wanted to mess it up. Both of us seemed to want to take it slow.

After the mall, we went back to my place to wait up for Cat. We continued to share and catch up until it was late. I was tired, he had a 2 hour drive ahead of him. We decided to call it a night. As I walked him to the door, all thoughts of "taking it slowly" were gone. I ached for a hug, to be in his arms, to remember how it felt.

He seemed to need the same thing because he finally did wrap his arms around me. It was wonderful, just like I remembered it. I wanted the moment to last forever. Right before he pulled away, he hesitated only a second before he tenatively kissed me goodnight.

In that one moment I was only sure about one thing: someday, we'd be together permanently.

Some Pictures

OK . . . since you asked . . . here are some pictures. Misty had a great idea that would help me get pix up here quick and easy. I took pictures of the pictures. I also like the idea Jennifer had about taking them to CVS and having them put on CD. I hadn't thought of either of these ideas, so thanks.

Summer 1995

We were so young.

July 11, 1998

Still young...

The ceremony
Yes, Shell, the dress was so heavy! It did kinda' knock me off balance when you fluffed my train!

Leaving for the honeymoon

We were so glad it was over! We loved our photographer, but she was really in to kissing pictures. We have lots of kissing pictures. I remember standing in the limo thinking, "Seriously? You want another picture of us kissing?"

My Very Own Love Story pt 5

Today is our 10th Anniversary! I can't believe it's already been a decade. It's been so fun walking down memory lane with you this week. Several of you have encouraged me to write our story, but I was hesitant to share with the whole www.

I've only touched tip of the iceberg when it comes to recounting the wonderful memories of our courtship, but I've given you enough that I think you get the picture. And, I've saved enough that I still feel like the biggest piece of the story is just for Honey and I to know and enjoy. Plus, you know how the story ends.

My original intent was to wrap this sappy story up today, but as the writing has progressed, I see it will take a few more posts. So, I'll try to finish up by the middle of next week. Enjoy part 5.

* * *

I tried for weeks to call Honey, but he wouldn't take my calls. After the fire, he'd moved off campus and his former roommate wouldn't tell me how to find him. When we broke up, I told him I thought he needed some space to figure some things out. I guessed this was how it was going to be, space, in the worst way.

I went home for Christmas break and hoped that a month back in his beloved New Mexican mountains would help him see things as less complicated and he'd be ready to at least speak to me. A couple of days after I got home, I was checking the mail at my parents house and found a book. As I retreived it, there was nothing to let me know who it was from or how it had gotten there. Just a Christmas tag reading " TO: Jenni, FROM: ". So, he was still thinking of me. It had to be from Honey.

He must have been on his way home for the holidays. I waited a couple of days thinking that he would call and explain the gift, but he didn't. So I called him. He wasn't home, but I had a nice visit with his mom. She promised to tell him I'd called.

That evening, he returned my call. He didn't want to, but, bless her heart, his mom made him. She insisted. It was a matter of being polite. The conversation was short. I thanked him for the book. We talked about how nice it was to have a break from school, all the small talk stuff you talk about when you're having a forced conversation for the sake of politeness.

I was dying to know, so I made myself ask, "Are you going back to camp this summer?"

"I don't know. There are still some things up in the air," he answered.

"Oh, well, I'm going back. I hope you go, too. It wouldn't be the same without you."

"Yeah, well, I've gotta go."

That was it. I didn't hear from him again the rest of Christmas break. Or in January, or in February. In March, I got the list of names, pictures, and biographies of the counselors that would be working at CBH for the summer and Honey's name wasn't there. So, he wasn't going back to camp. I told myself the same thing I'd been telling myself since we circled the wagons for the very first time, "If it's meant to be, God will make it happen in His time."

In May, a few days before school was out, he called. He wanted me to know that he was leaving soon for Germany. He'd be there for 6 weeks doing mission work with the Let's Start Talking program. He would be home in time for the 4th of July, well before camp was scheduled to be over. He wanted to exchange addresses so that we could write. I was ecstatic and agreed to keep in touch by mail through the summer.

It takes for-evah for letters to go from the US to Germany and back again. We did manage to get a few back and forth before his 6 weeks was up, but not as many as we would have liked. The summer at camp was very different than the last year had been. Only 3 counselors from the year before had returned. Among the new counselors was a guy from my school. We'd known each other casually at FCU, but got to know each other better as we worked together at camp. We began, sort of, dating. Or maybe I should say "dating", because I'm not sure it qualified as dating. Honestly, it was the weirdest feeling ever, dating someone else at camp. Someone that wasn't Honey. He was New Guy. It was just all a little. . .off.

When the campers would arrive each session I had a blast seeing my girls from the year before and catching up with their lives. They almost always asked about Honey and I. I would share the news that we'd broken up and they were disappointed.

By 4th session, New Guy was sick to death of hearing about Honey. Everyone - campers, teachers, and kitchen staff all seemed to mourn the fact that Honey and I weren't dating anymore. That was also weird. New Guy thought everyone needed to get a life.

About half way through 4th session, I was making my way back to my cabin after morning chores. A couple of my girls from the year before came running and squealing (they were Jr. High age, so you can imagine the squealing) headed straight for me.

"Jeeeee - nnnnnniiiii!" "Jenni, Jenni, Jennnnni!" "YOU'LL NEVER GUESS WHO WE JUST SAW!"

"I have no idea."

"HONEY! HE'S HERE! AT CAMP! RIGHT! NOW! WE JUST SAW HIM WALKING OVER TO THE BOYS SIDE! ARE YOU GOING TO GO TALK TO HIM!?"

I was shocked. I truly wasn't expecting him to come to camp. What was I going to do? My heart began to race. I hadn't seen him since the afternoon we broke up. With as much calm as I could muster, I answered the giddy girls, "Well, thanks for warning me. Y'all have to go to Bible class and I have to go to counselor meeting. I'll let you now how it goes."

Honey was in the office when I arrived for counselor meeting. We greeted each other with a tenative hug and an awkward silence. "Good morning," he smiled. The awkwardness melted away.

"Hey," I smiled back, "How was your trip? I can' t believe you're already home."

Behind me, someone cleared his throat. "I'm New Guy, you must be Honey."

"Yeah, it's good to meet you."

"Yeah, you too. Hey, Jen, I'm going in to the meeting. I'll save you a seat."

"OK, thanks," I replied. I turned to Honey, the awkwardness suddenly back.

"So, that's the guy?" he asked.

"Yeah, we've been going out some this summer," I answered. "Hey, I'd love to visit more, but I've got to go to this meeting."

"Sure, I understand. It's good to see you."

"It's good to see you, too," I replied as I turned to go.

When the meeting was over, he was gone. New Guy invited me for a walk, but I declined. I needed to be alone. I hid out in my cabin until Chapel. I hoped Honey would show up there, but he didn't. After rest time that afternoon was recreation. I was assigned to the Arts and Crafts cabin. New Guy had traded with someone and he was working there, too. Arts and crafts isn't usually very busy unless it's raining. That afternoon the sun was shining, but some clouds were rolling in. Even still, we were a little slow.

Ten minutes after rec started, Honey walked into the craft cabin. Memories from the previous summer flooded my mind.

"Do you have a minute?" he asked me.

I looked at New Guy wondering if he could handle the light crowd alone for a few minutes. I never stopped to wonder if he minded if the girl he was dating (or "dating") went off and talked alone with her ex-boyfriend. He seemed indifferent, so I left the cabin with Honey.

He had parked his gold truck on the road just outside. "Wow, I didn't know you got a truck. What happened to your car?"

"I upgraded," he smiled easily. I loved that smile.

"So you had a good time in Germany?" I asked.

"It was hard. I was lonely, but I really connected with some of my students. I loved working with them. I brought you something," he handed me a small package wrapped in white tissue paper.

Taken by surprise, I looked deeply into his eyes, for the first time since we'd broken up, trying to read what he was thinking, "You brought me something from Germany?"

"It's not much. But I wanted you to know that I thought about you while I was over there. Thanks for writing me."

I opened the gift. It was a miniature schoolhouse. I'm sure my face lit up. Not so much because of what the gift was, but because he'd just said that he thought about me all the way over in Germany. "Thanks, I love it." It began to sprinkle rain.

"I thought of you when I saw it, since you're going to be a teacher. You're welcome."

Just then, as if to say "time's up", it began to rain in earnest. Campers started running for cover in the craft cabin. Most wanted to stay dry while they waited for rec to be over. I gave him a quick hug and thanked him again for the gift. "I better get back in there. It'll be crazy with all the kids," I reluctantly said.

Just as reluctantly he said, "Have a great rest of the summer."

My Very Own Love Story pt. 4

That fall was a wonderfully difficult season. It was hard coming home from camp. I was not the same person I was 10 weeks earlier. God had come down and met me on the mountain so many times. When God meets you, it's impossible to come away unchanged.

The only person that understood the change in me was Honey. He'd been there for most of it. He'd even experienced the changes himself. We all had. And with September upon us, we were faced with fitting back in to our old lives only to find that we didn't fit in the same way we once had. It was wonderful to be transformed. It was hard to be changed.

Honey was in the midst of his busiest semester yet. He had many commitments and obligations from club, to outside organizations, to 18 hours of course work, to keeping in touch with me. We tried to see each other every other weekend. Mostly, he would come to see me. Since we were the last generation to live without e-mail, texting, and myspace, we became experts at writing letters. We cherished the expensive long distance phone calls. Even though it was stressful, and we loved spending time with each other, our relationship grew leaps and bounds that semester because we were forced to talk, and write, and listen without the pressures of kissing, and holding, and touching too much.

The first weekend in November, I was headed home to spend the weekend with my family. I'd invited Honey to join me, but he'd decided to stay in town, hang with his friends, and catch up on some rest. It was the first weekend he'd spent in town all semester. I stopped in and saw him on my way. I met him in the lobby of his dorm and we talked there for a few minutes.

When I got to the dorm, he had a calendar he'd just bought. It had pictures of the wildlife and mountain views in Montana. We spent the better part of our conversation looking at the pictures and dreaming about visiting there some day. "Will you go there with me?" he asked. "Would you ever live up there?"

Surprised and warmed by such talk of the future and how permanent it could be, I said, "Sure, I'll go there with you . . . someday."

Our conversation ended on that note and I headed home. That evening while I was watching the 10 o'clock news with my parents, the phone rang. It was Honey, he had something to tell me.

He asked me to sit down.

He told me that his dorm was on fire.

He hadn't been there when it started, but he and his buddies had been over there and it didn't look good. No one was hurt, but the fire started on his floor and it looked like there would be very little left. He wanted me to know that he was safe in case I'd heard about it already.

Of course I spent the rest of the weekend waiting to hear from him, to find out what he knew . . . which wasn't much. All he had was the clothes on his back and whatever the community had donated to help get them through the first few days.

Mom and I skipped church Sunday morning and went shopping. We bought clothes, bedding, toiletries, and whatever else we could think of that might be needed. Some was meant for Honey, and some was to give to whoever needed them. We loaded up Mom's suburban and she followed me to Honey's town.

I wasn't sure where to find Honey (remember, no cell phones back then). I decided to start looking at his dorm. We arrived just as they were letting the guys back in the dorm for the first time. They were all anxious to see the damage to their rooms. Being a girl, I was feeling all dramatic and only wanted to hug Honey and see with my own eyes that he was OK. When we found him he was OK, but distant. I got a side hug . . . barely.

It was awkward. I felt like an outsider. All the guys and the students that were friends were rallying around each other, and I didn't really have a connection with any of them, except Honey.

We delivered our stuff, and Honey appreciated it. And then, I drove back to school.

The next weekend, I went back to visit. He was sick, probably from cleaning and washing and salvaging all week in a smoke filled building. He was glad to see me, but distant.

Phone calls replaced letters, and those were . . . distant. He just kept saying that he was confused and that he needed to be with the people there at his school, the people that were going through the same stuff, the people that understood. He needed space, so I kept my distance.

Distance. . .

distance. . .

distance.

By the time I was headed home for Thanksgiving break I was tired of the distance. The physical distance that kept us 2 hours away from each other was hard enough, but the emotional distance was much harder to deal with. I wanted to be the bright spot in his day. I wanted to be the one to bear the burdens with him. I wanted to be the one he looked forward to talking to. But I felt like an obligation. I felt like something to be marked off a to-do list. I felt like I was adding to his burdens.

I prayed about what to do. I agonized over it. My roommates and I analyzed it to ad nauseam. Honey seemed happy to be distant. I needed him to share his burdens. Honey needed space. I needed to feel needed. Ultimately, I felt like the best thing was to give him some time to figure out whatever it was that he needed to figure out. Thanksgiving weekend on my way back to school, I broke up with him.

He was gracious, but he was angry. I wanted to talk on the phone every now and then, he would have none of it. I was heartbroken.

My Very Own Love Story pt. 3

The summer passed faster than I ever thought possible. Honey and I did eventually work together a few sessions. I met his brother and cousin. He met my parents when they came to visit. I went home with him to meet his parents. He met a couple of my roommates when they came to visit.

I spent the entire summer making memories with my campers, the other staff members, and with Honey. I took pictures in my mind and stored them in my heart for safe keeping. It was a wonderful summer.

As the last session of the summer approached, I found myself dreading it. With only 2 weeks left at camp, I couldn't help but wonder what would happen between Honey and I when we went back to school. Was it just a camp romance? It didn't feel that way to me, but I wasn't sure about how he felt. FCU was 2 hours away from his Christian university. Could we really do the long distance thing?

Saturday night, before campers arrived for the final session Sunday afternoon, we were saying goodnight on the porch of my cabin. As he hugged me, he asked, "Will you go somewhere with me tomorrow?"

"What about the campers?" I questioned.

"Before they get here."

"What about worship?" I asked.

"We'll be back by then."

Wondering where we could possibly go before Sunday morning worship, I asked, "Where do you want to go?"

"I want to take you to watch the sunrise."

Pleasantly surprised, I agreed. "OK. What time?" I would have gone anywhere with him, no matter what time of day.

"Early. Meet me at my car."

VERY early the next morning I was sitting in the passenger seat of Honey's car as he drove to the top of Johnson's Mesa. The last few hundred yards could barely be called a "road", but his car made it to the top. We sat on the side of the mountain, wrapped in a blanket, and waited for the sun to appear. We barely made it, it didn't take long. When it peaked up over the horizon, Honey took a picture. It was breathtaking. I'd never watched the sun rise with a boy before. Just then, Honey leaned up close and whispered in my ear, "I love you."

I only savored the words a minute before I replied, "I love you."

That seemed to settle it. After that moment, I had a peace about our relationship. I lived every moment of 6th session and didn't worry about the end of the summer. I didn't need to know the details or the logistics. I just knew that we would be. And that was enough for me.

My Very Own Love Story pt. 2

We didn't work together that session, but it was OK. Every morning, Honey found me on the deck before breakfast and greeted me with a smile and a "Good morning". It always made me feel like we were the only two people on the planet instead of 2 among about 250 hungry, rowdy teens.

True to his word, when it was time to get ready for the sleepout that week, he delivered his sleeping bag to me. He had a surprise, too. He let me borrow his watch. He asked me what time I wanted to wake up and he set the alarm on the watch for me. He said that I'd sleep so good in his warm sleeping bag that I'd definitely need the alarm. So, with my new sleep out gear, I set off for an evening of cooking and sleeping by the campfire.

When our brother cabin was packing up to leave us girls for the evening, my boy's counterpart for the session, built the campfire up for us. He said he'd heard that my first sleepout was cold, and that it had been suggested to him that I would appreciate a toasty fire before they left for the night. I thanked him for the gesture and smiled knowing that Honey must have filled him in.

I'm not sure why, probably too many slumber parties when I was in Jr. High, but I didn't trust my 8th grade girls to let me sleep in peace that night. I was afraid that if I slept without my bra, they would sneak it away from me and do...who knows what to it...so the solution I came up with was to stuff my bra all the way down in the bottom of the sleeping bag. That way they would never get to it.

It turns out that they were as tired as I was, so it didn't take long for them to fall asleep. And I was a close second.

When the alarm on Honey's watch went off the next morning, I was so rested. Such a difference from the week before. I woke everyone up, we packed our gear, and hiked back in to camp to get ready for the day. I returned Honey's sleeping bag and watch at breakfast because that night was the guy's sleep out and he would need it himself. I thanked him for letting me borrow his sleeping bag.

The next day during trading post, Honey found me and whispered in a conspiratorial voice, "I found your surprise."

Confused, I asked, "What surprise?"

"The one you left in my sleeping bag."

"What are you...?" The realization suddenly hit me . . . I'd accidentally left my BRA in his sleeping bag! Completely mortified I asked, "What did you do with it?"

"It's still in there. I didn't want my guys to see it. I brought the sleeping bag down here so you could take it to your cabin and get it."

I'm sure I was a thousand shades of red as I apologized over and over. He just grinned, and seemed amused, and assured me that I could still borrow his sleeping bag next week.

The next week I did borrow it. And the next morning when I returned it, he smiled and asked, "Did you get all of your surprises out?"

My Very Own Love Story

March 1995 was life changing for me. I was finishing up my sophomore year at Favorite Christian University. I was enjoying the privileges of life as a member of a social club and not a pledge of a social club. After nine challenging months, I broke up with my so-not-the-one-for-me boyfriend. And, I found out that I had been selected to spend the summer at my childhood church camp, CBH, as a counselor.

As I prepared to spend ten wonderful weeks at Camp Blue Haven living my dream job, I remember looking at the list of names, pictures, and short biographies of the other 15 counselors and wondering if I would fit in with all of them. I knew most of them because they were a little older than me and had served as counselors before me. I was anxious to meet the ones I didn't know and obsessed about making a good impression on the veterans.

I followed one of the other girls from my hometown up to camp on Memorial Day weekend. My blue 1989 Oldsmobile was packed to the roof with everything I'd need to be the perfect counselor that summer. We arrived in plenty of time to unpack and get settled in our cabins. It didn't take long for the 8 of us girls to find one another and catch up on old times. Honestly there was probably more talking and hugging and laughing going on than unpacking. By the time the bell at the dinning hall rang letting us know it was time to assemble for supper, I was comfortable with the girls I'd be working with and was ready for the adventure of my life.

Arriving at the dinning hall, we realized that the rest of the camp staff, including the guys' counselors, was already there. The guys probably didn't have nearly as much to unpack and catch up on as we girls did. (And, guys are almost always the first ones to arrive when food is involved.) Anyways, almost as soon as we walked in, Vance, the camp director, called for us to "circle the wagons", which meant grab the hand closest to you and make a circle.

We formed our circle, I looked around at the precious people I would be living with that summer, and I found myself standing next to a tall, dark, handsome stranger. We didn't get a chance to speak until after the prayer, but as soon as we heard "amen" we looked at each other. I think we'd both decided that since we'd just been holding hands, an introduction was appropriate. He was Honey, living on the guys' side in cabin #5. I was Jenni, living on the girls' side in cabin #12.

The first week at camp was counselor training week. We trained in first aid, cleaned, rehearsed for various night time activities, and hiked. The city girl in me was drawn to Honey almost from the beginning. Although I'd been in camp settings all of my life, I loved my bed, my hairdryer, and my hot showers. When it came to actually spending time outside, I wasn't exactly a pro. But Honey was. He'd grown up in the mountains of New Mexico. He rode horses, built toasty camp fires, and knew all about the perfect way to polish hiking boots so they'd be waterproof. He also seemed to know his way around the area. I, on the other hand, couldn't seem to tell one tree from the next and was hopeless at finding the hiking trail.

It was a full, busy, hard, tiring, fabulous week. At the end of the week we got our first session assignments. I had one of two 5th and 6th grade girls' cabins. And at meal times, my cabin would be sharing a table with the boys' cabin # 5.

Honey had 7th and 8th graders, so we really didn't spend much time together that week outside of eating. I settled in to my counselor role quickly. I loved spending time with my girls, but the highlight of my day was at breakfast when we were getting settled at our table, and Honey would look me in the eye and say, "Good morning. How'd you sleep?"

Most mornings my answer was something like, "Good, how about you?", but Tuesday morning it was more like, "Not too great. I froze. I couldn't wait until it was time to get up and hit the showers this morning. Between freezing all night and worrying about oversleeping without an alarm to wake me up, I didn't sleep much."

Monday nights at CBH were cook out night for dinner and sleep out night for the girls. I had partnered up with the veteran counselor living in the other half of our duplex cabin for my first sleep-out of the summer. I let my younger 5th and 6th grade girls sleep close to the fire while I found a place on the edge of our little circle of sleeping girls. Just in case. In case of what? I'm not sure, but it seemed the counselorly thing to do.

Anyways, Honey was appropriately sympathetic, yet, slightly amused at my experience, or lack of experience. He assured me that the next sleep out would be better.

Honey had some delightful, flirty boys that were just starting to notice the female half of the human race. They just couldn't stand it that they all had dates to the banquet at the end of the week, but none of the counselors seemed to be pairing off. So at breakfast, the morning of the banquet, they insisted that Honey and I go together. We humored them and stood in line together, and even sat by each other at the counselor table during the meal, but I didn't think there was a chance that the kind, capable guy I'd been getting to know that week would be interested in me.

After the banquet, as we were all making our way to the barn for the slide show, Honey walked beside me with his hands in his pockets. "What are your plans for tomorrow?" he asked. We would have that Saturday off as soon as all the campers were packed up and headed home.

"I hadn't really thought about it. I need to go to town and do laundry. I could also pick up a few things at Walmart. What about you?"

"I just wondered if you'd like to ride to town with me. We could go to the laundromat together. I could use a couple of things at Walmart, too. Maybe we could pick up some lunch while we're there."

My heart was racing as I smiled and said, "Sure, that sounds like fun."

The next morning, after the campers had gone, he knocked on my cabin door. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah, just let me get my laundry bag."

He stepped in to help me with the bag and noticed the sleeping bag in my closet. "Is that the sleeping bag you brought for sleep outs?"

"Yes, why?"

"No wonder you were cold. That sleeping bag isn't made to be used outdoors. You need a warmer sleeping bag."

"Well, then, help me remember to buy one at Walmart."

"They're probably pretty expensive. Why don't you just borrow mine next time? It'll save you the money."

"Ok," I said relishing the thought of having an excuse to seek him out during the next week, "Thanks."

We had a fun time in town doing laundry, and shopping at Walmart, and eating lunch. By the time we returned that afternoon, I was deeply in like with this guy. I hoped against hope that we would be partnered together somehow for the next camp session. It was a two week session, and I couldn't imagine not having an excuse to spend time with him. Or, worse yet, him spending time getting to know any of the other girl counselors.