The Proposal (God is Good)

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Once upon a time many years ago I decided I wanted to marry Brenna Temple; I just took a long time to ask. Here is the story of how we got engaged…


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I decided our engagement would take place on December 12th (12/12) because the number 12 is special in our relationship. In the early days of our long distance relationship I suggested we establish a specific time of day that could be Our Time – in each time zone we’d set aside that time to think about each other. She came beck with “WHAT ABOUT 12:12?”

“Ok, but why?”

“Because it’s R time!” And she attached a picture of a scrawled “12” that actually does resemble the letter R.  “Get it?!”

This was definitely the girl I wanted to marry.

On the morning of December 12th I boarded a flight for Atlanta in secret. For other passengers the flight time was somewhere around three hours but it was the longest trip of my life. It’s a strange feeling when you are aware you’re moving toward your destiny. Much like a first time skydiver, I was about to do something very exciting and scary and I wasn’t going to do it alone.

In the bag at my feet was a new ring with a lot of history. Months earlier my parents had offered me the diamond from my mother’s ring for when (not if) I proposed to Brenna. I initially declined but my mom argued that after 45 years of marriage she didn’t need a symbol of their love – my father was that symbol. She made a convincing argument and I accepted their gift to carry on a piece of their marriage into mine. Thanks, Mom & Dad.

While on the flight I did my best to convince Brenna that it was a typical Thursday. Since we send each other messages so often, she was sure to notice a three-hour silence from me. I was afraid she’d already be suspecting something special on 12/12 and when she told me the night before my flight that she’d gotten her hair cut and painted her nails I had a sinking feeling that she knew was just too nice to ruin my plan. But just in case, I used a laptop and the onboard WiFi to send her text messages from the air. I landed at 2pm and while hustling through the Atlanta airport I sent her an additional “Happy R Time” message since it was 12:12pm back in Phoenix.

Apparently I’m extraordinarily good at deception.

I took a cab to Muss & Turners restaurant where Brenna had (fake) plans for drinks with her friend Meg. I had heard about M&T’s weeks earlier when Brenna told me about a business lunch she attended in a cool location with a hidden speakeasy bar in the back. Thanks to Google and a few Yelp reviews I found the name of the place and got in touch with Tiffany their awesome event planner who was a huge help in the planning process.

When I arrived to M&T’s I found my expectations exceeded. Across an open dining room was a large freezer door that opened to expose a shadowy hallway that twisted and turned into a cozy speakeasy-style bar. There was a dining room off of the hallway that allowed for some privacy and the bar featured one-way mirrors that I used to watch for Brenna’s arrival while sipping a cocktail Tiffany bought me to calm my nerves.

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Finally, the moment (and the girl) arrived and I saw Brenna enter the dining room. The staff sprung into action as I slipped through a side door into the private dining room. In a few moments I heard Brenna being directed down the hall. She turned and saw me standing there in a suit and gasped, “Oh my God!” as she walked toward me.

She was stunned and I was shaking. But I managed to get on one knee and ask her to marry me…

After the shock wore off and the reality of what just happened was setting in she asked disappointedly, “So Meg’s isn’t coming?”

“Sorry,” I said unapologetically (keep reading).

After a few minutes to ourselves I told her the private room was booked so we had to relocate into the bar area. There, she discovered a table set up with a Monopoly game I had made up with each property representing a special place in our lives. Monopoly is her favorite board game and it’s now mine as long as I am winning.

We enjoyed a couple of mimosas at our table while I filled her in on some of the backstory leading up to the Question then we decided to go back down the hallway – collect my bags from the private room – and have dinner in the main dining area (ok, that was the last deception, I promise!). As Brenna rounded the corner she gasped when she saw coats on some of the chairs. She thought we’d have to awkwardly retrieve my luggage during someone else’s dinner until she took another step and saw a few of her friends (including Meg!) waiting to surprise her. I had contacted them via Facebook (not creepy at all) and asked them to assemble to help us celebrate.

It was an incredible night.

Looking back, I am so grateful for everyone who played a part in this to make it so much better than I could have planned it on my own.  Everything fell into place so perfectly and magically that it would have been easy to think I’d fallen into a fairy tale.

Thank you to Muss & Turner’s –  the staff went above and beyond to welcome me and make Brenna’s night truly special. Definitely check this place out and ask to see Eleanor.

Thank you to Meg and Bryn for helping with the plan, getting Brenna there with a clean(isn) shirt and for keeping a secret!

Thank you to Lisa for the airport drop-off and to all of my friends for your encouragement, advice, and excitement.

Thank you to my family – in San Antonio and North Carolina and soon opening new locations in Houston, Austin, and Tennessee – for everything.

And thank you to God who reached into the cookie jar in His perfect time and gave me everything I’d hoped for after all – happily ever after.

Earning the Unattainable

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I’m in love.

I admit it – I’m in sappy, crazy, blissful, it’s-like-we-share-a-brain love. I promise this blog post isn’t about how awesome she is or the story of how we met. Instead, this story is about the little voice in my head that recognizes how happy I am and immediately wonders how it will all go wrong.

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Mr. Goodwill: An Allegory

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I can’t expect you to believe this story. No one back home did either when they heard there was magic happening on a street corner in East Texas.

When word got around that an old man was selling miniature dolls made to look like people walking by, there was plenty of doubters. There was talk of copyright violation, privacy violation and general discomfort with the whole idea of someone making a model of a person without permission.

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Widows and Weeds

 

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It has rained a lot in Phoenix the past few days. When you combine this with week spent in Texas and add a pinch of general laziness you end up with a backyard that looks like the set of Honey, I Shrunk the Kids. (French class!). I’m going to need a machete and a flamethrower to tame this jungle but just for today I’m glad it’s there.

When I was out jogging to make myself feel superior to you, I passed by a beautiful flower bush in bloom. It was amazingly yellow and had so many petals it didn’t know what to do with them all; some were scattered on the ground beneath it. It was glorious!

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Then when I got home and lamented by gardening mission I noticed the weeds that are troubling me have tiny petals at the top of them. Just a few to each one, small blooms stretching toward the sun with whatever glory a weed can muster. It reminded me of a story…

When Jesus was talking in the city one day he noticed people giving offerings at the temple. Among them was a poor widow who had but two coins. He watched as she gave them up and said, “The plain truth is that this widow has given by far the largest offering today.” The widow was giving all she had. She had no giant check to hand off at a press conference, just an embarrassingly small amount that God counted as a treasure.

It was an encouragement to me to bloom with whatever petals I’ve been given. Stretch out toward the sun what I have no matter if anyone cares or appreciates it. Because I know that where some people see weeds, God sees a flower. Where some people see broken, God sees beautiful.

It’s glorious.

 

 

 

Cancer and Channel 9

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“Call us when you get this message.”

Shit. When I got the voice mail I just knew something was wrong. My parents back in San Antonio wanted me to call them. My mind raced as I immediately found a quiet spot in the office and braced myself listening to the line ring until my dad’s voice cut across the distance…

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