(no subject)
It is time perhaps to let the cat out of the bag, because there is no more denying it, no more questioning it.
This man in my life is the most real, the most important person who has ever entered into my sphere of existence. We are made perfectly for each other: we share the same spirit, mission, struggles, dreams, bad sense of humor, overwhelming sense of child-like delight. Strange as it is to say, we have been waiting for each other our whole lives. I knew him before I ever met him. We have been brought together quickly because we have work to do together on this earth. Our path is laid out before us and we are now running hand in hand full speed for God's heart. How can I explain clearly to someone who hasn't met him, who hasn't seen us interact, the peace and joy that is between us, and the certainty.
Suddenly my life is taking flight. I did not expect it. I certainly didn't need or even want John when he first appeared in my life. I was ready to fly solo, ready to enjoy flying solo like I always have and to pursue God's will in my life on my own. When I came back from France, after three months of rebuilding my faith and being purged of the pettiness of my past struggles, my faith awoke with a clamor. I am nothing but, or nothing without, my faith in Christ. What that means is a life of love, of absolute joy, or purity, and of simplicity, and of humility. No more, and certainly no less.
Then, in that creaky house where I moved on a whim, in which I planned on living quite contentedly by myself, I found a family. There is a spirit of community in our house that inspires us to build each other up, to encourage each other, challenge each other, to make of our lives something worthwhile and something beautiful. And then there was a tall, bearded, hazel-eyed German speaker named John, who plays the banjo, travels the world, does the dishes when he's angry. He astounded me. He still astounds me. There is a note in tiny pin-scratch at the bottom of an entry I wrote in my journal a week after moving into the house that "I could marry this man." We spent night upon night talking, praying, and singing together.
This is the beginning of our lives. This is where our parallel road comes together. This is the point where we came together so naturally, so smoothly, that I wonder if we ever had a choice in the matter.
Two wise women entered my life last night. Crazy. My own new mothers. I spoke to his mom Diana and his grandmother on the phone from Alaska. His grandmother said before she passed the phone, "I am so glad to meet you, my daughter, I love you already." His mother said to me, "We had begun to think there were no worthwhile girls left in the world, Ingrid. You are a blessing and a dream come true."
There are two rings sitting in boxes beside John's bed downstairs. We don't plan on wearing them until we return from spending time with his father in Tennessee. But they are ours, the rings are the symbols of our unity, our Forever together, our possession of each other, all of our promises, all of our commitment.
I am engaged to my man, my John.
I am to be Mrs John Louis Laubach, Ingrid Elizabeth Laubach.
This man in my life is the most real, the most important person who has ever entered into my sphere of existence. We are made perfectly for each other: we share the same spirit, mission, struggles, dreams, bad sense of humor, overwhelming sense of child-like delight. Strange as it is to say, we have been waiting for each other our whole lives. I knew him before I ever met him. We have been brought together quickly because we have work to do together on this earth. Our path is laid out before us and we are now running hand in hand full speed for God's heart. How can I explain clearly to someone who hasn't met him, who hasn't seen us interact, the peace and joy that is between us, and the certainty.
Suddenly my life is taking flight. I did not expect it. I certainly didn't need or even want John when he first appeared in my life. I was ready to fly solo, ready to enjoy flying solo like I always have and to pursue God's will in my life on my own. When I came back from France, after three months of rebuilding my faith and being purged of the pettiness of my past struggles, my faith awoke with a clamor. I am nothing but, or nothing without, my faith in Christ. What that means is a life of love, of absolute joy, or purity, and of simplicity, and of humility. No more, and certainly no less.
Then, in that creaky house where I moved on a whim, in which I planned on living quite contentedly by myself, I found a family. There is a spirit of community in our house that inspires us to build each other up, to encourage each other, challenge each other, to make of our lives something worthwhile and something beautiful. And then there was a tall, bearded, hazel-eyed German speaker named John, who plays the banjo, travels the world, does the dishes when he's angry. He astounded me. He still astounds me. There is a note in tiny pin-scratch at the bottom of an entry I wrote in my journal a week after moving into the house that "I could marry this man." We spent night upon night talking, praying, and singing together.
This is the beginning of our lives. This is where our parallel road comes together. This is the point where we came together so naturally, so smoothly, that I wonder if we ever had a choice in the matter.
Two wise women entered my life last night. Crazy. My own new mothers. I spoke to his mom Diana and his grandmother on the phone from Alaska. His grandmother said before she passed the phone, "I am so glad to meet you, my daughter, I love you already." His mother said to me, "We had begun to think there were no worthwhile girls left in the world, Ingrid. You are a blessing and a dream come true."
There are two rings sitting in boxes beside John's bed downstairs. We don't plan on wearing them until we return from spending time with his father in Tennessee. But they are ours, the rings are the symbols of our unity, our Forever together, our possession of each other, all of our promises, all of our commitment.
I am engaged to my man, my John.
I am to be Mrs John Louis Laubach, Ingrid Elizabeth Laubach.