The Proposal

Recently, I was out at a restaurant with some girl friends.  We happened to get on the topic of proposals, leading us to go around the table and tell each of our stories.  There were tales of handmade scrapbooks, rose petals and candlelight, dancing in the rain, diamond rings served on elegant dessert platters.  Very impressive, Hallmark movie type stuff.  And then it was my turn.  “Um, one night David and I were sitting on the couch in his apartment.  Just talking, maybe watching television.  He asked if I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him.  And I did.”  The end.  Not exactly the proposal that launched a billion YouTube views, but I wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Let me explain.

David had done the fancy proposal thing with me.  A picnic and gorgeous hike, followed by a one kneed declaration in a riverbed.  Long story short (you can read the long version here), immaturity and young love had cleverly concealed a few underlying relationship issues in our rush to get to the altar.  So the first proposal didn’t go according to plan. (Actually, we started calling it “Operation Dumbo Drop” for lack of a better term.)  And that scared the crap out of us because we were STILL very much in love.  Even though I said “No.”  These were desolate, confusing days.  I remember thinking, “If I can’t make it work with David, I just won’t be getting married.  Period.”

Not to ruin the ending, but (Spoiler Alert) WE GOT MARRIED.  Yesterday marked our 12 year anniversary.  Not to be cliche, but I am more in love with David today than I was a dozen years ago.  Time has revealed facets of him that I can’t help but cherish and respect: Hands-on father, trusted adviser and confidant, patient counselor, laundry master (especially that last one).  But the role I could never put a price tag on, the one so integral to his character, is his servanthood.  THIS is what makes him such an amazing dad, employee, husband, friend.  He puts others before himself.  Not in a weird “people pleasing” way or to his personal detriment, but how Jesus did.  In other words, the right way.

This was revealed in sharp relief the other day.  I was purging our attic of junk in order to donate to a friend’s fundraising yard sale.  (Haha-"donate.”  More like “suppress my hoarder tendencies under the guise of a good cause.”)  During this cleanse, I stumbled upon David’s journal from college.  Specifically entries during the time after “Operation Dumbo Drop.”  It was hard to read, but being the nosy wife I am-I powered through.

Here’s how it was, those months after “the event.”  Awful.  It was a BIG feelings time, hurt and betrayal topping the list.  For a while that ease, the comfortable familiarity, vanished from our relationship.  Counseling helped us take baby steps towards the closeness of before.  Eventually marriage reemerged as a topic of conversation, but I left those talks feeling as uncomfortable as Rahab in the synagogue. (Kudos if you get that reference.  Plus, Rahab, you are totes welcome at our church.)  I knew we wouldn’t rebound from another failed proposal, so I balked at any “serious” or heartfelt stuff.  Basically romance.  Initially saying “no” had been the right decision, but the aftermath of that action impaired my ability to connect.  In my defense, I was terrified of losing my best friend.

Reading David’s journaled version of this mess was heartbreaking.  I’m not going to further violate his privacy (Notice how I said “further?”  Love you, Honey!) by sharing any direct quotes with you, but you can imagine his devastation.  His growing hope as we started to restore things.  And then -months later- his rightful frustration over wanting to move forward in the relationship, while his girlfriend remained stuck in neutral.  But there was one entry that stopped me in my tracks.  I’ll try to summarize: “...Proposing is supposed to be a big deal.  It is almost a competition between guys.  And Laura keeps saying she doesn’t want anything special or out of the ordinary.  That’s hard for me.  I want to do something unique, give her a great story that she will enjoy sharing with her friends…”  Those sentences brought almost-12-years married Laura to her knees in tears.

Because it all comes back to this: David is a servant.  That’s the reason why he asked to not see me in my bathing suit until we were married.  Why he gave his nervous fiance a little gift Each. Day. for a month leading up until their BIG day.  And why we didn’t kiss until the night before our wedding.  It’s why he, the carnivore, eats mostly vegetarian meals cooked by his wife.  And why he spends EVERY Sunday afternoon play-fighting, wrestling, and filling the love tank of his 8 year old son.  He puts himself second.

So no, our proposal is not going to inspire any Lifetime movies.  It’s not exciting or special.  In fact THAT evening was a pretty good predictor for how most of our evenings are now, twelve years later.  Low key.  Talking, relaxing on the couch, reading books, maybe watching TV.  But I know what’s happening behind the scenes.  I know that my husband (my then boyfriend) put his ego on the back burner to give me this normal.  He put MY needs, my concerns, above his desire for the epic proposal.  He abandoned those big notions of an unforgettable engagement evening.  For me.  And in turn, he gave me something better: His humble heart.  I cannot imagine a more perfect story than that.  I love you, David.  You are everything to me.

Also, who are these babies in our wedding pictures?