You know how sometimes you meet someone, and you’re just drawn to them? You want to hear their stories (closing your eyes as they speak hushed words in South African accent, additionally), and you want to learn and grow and be with them. That’s Bronwyn right there for you – so, enjoy her words today, about how the little things – in love! – really are the big things.
He stood at my front door with a sheepish grin and a bomber jacket that really should have stayed in 1987. He was late. He mumbled. He seemed uncomfortable.
However, he was new to town and I was ‘practicing hospitality’, as it were, so I welcomed him in and introduced him to the dozen friends at the table. We made conversation over dinner: he was an engineer, he had traveled, he had quit his job to spend a year at seminary reading. He was introverted, mathematical. He needed a new jacket.
I sized him up: he was the perfect guy.
For somebody else.
Putting on my Emma-matchmaker hat, I made a mental list of quiet, mathematical girls I could introduce him to. This could work out nicely, I thought.
It was more than a little awkward, then, when he called two days later and wanted to chat. And then called a few days after that. By the 4th call, I began to grow suspicious: Did he like me? And worse yet – did he think that I liked him? Had my friendly been mistaken for flirty?
I made an immediate decision to turn things down a notch and to Be Perfectly Clear. No cavalier laughing at the things he said. Definitely no inadvertent physical contact. Boundaries, people, boundaries!
He took the cue.
Weeks ticked by.
It came as no surprise that he would find his way to the local annual Easter Convention: it was THE gathering place for young adults in our teeny-tiny denomination. Despite being an extrovert, the crowd of 400 hundred was too big, and I found myself gravitating towards the few faces I know. His was a welcome, familiar face.
Standing in the meal queue together led to sitting at dinner together, which led to sitting in the next plenary session together, and perhaps a cup of coffee together afterwards too.
And perhaps we may have said hi at breakfast the next morning.
And perhaps at tea.
And there might have been a quick hello between breakout sessions, and a catch-up at lunch.
But it was only later that night, walking into the communal dining hall, that I realized. REALIZED. I stepped into the room and caught myself scanning the crowd as I found a place to sit: but not just scanning for a seat. I caught myself scanning for a face: doing a mental sweep of the crowd to see where he was. Scanning the crowd the way I had done as a teen when there was a Boy I Was Interested In and I was Aware of where they were in a room, even if I wasn’t going to talk to them.
And there I was. Scanning. For Him.
“Ooooooh”, I breathed to myself. “Well, that changes everything, now doesn’t it?”
I walked towards him, smiling.
I stepped into the sun-lit space where hundreds of joyful faces were turned towards me. The music swelled, and I scanned the crowd again. But this time, I knew where to look for him: at the front, slightly to the right of the aisle. The handsome one. In a tux.
And once again, I walked towards him, smiling.
Bronwyn Lea is a writer-mama, latte-sipper, laughter-seeker and Jesus-junkie. She has an unnatural love for excavators and the color teal. She writes about all things holy and hilarious at her blog and various other online publications. She’d be tickled pink if you stopped by to say hello at her www.bronlea.com, on facebook or on twitter. Yup, Bronwyn is the real deal – so if her story put a smile on your face, give her some love here!0