love – Lisa J Radcliff ~ Finding Freedom from the Past

My Real-Life Hallmark Romance

Could one of those predictable Hallmark romances ever happen in real life? After watching about a dozen of them this holiday season, I realized that my love story has all the elements of a typical Hallmark movie, including a cute pickup truck.

My husband, Doug, and I met—well, I’m not sure when we met. We have known each other since we were kids, growing up attending the same church. What I do remember is when I first noticed him, I didn’t like him. I thought he was snobby. He wasn’t just popular, he was THE popular kid. And he always wore very short white tennis shorts. I thought he must really like his legs, which was weird.

Then I reached the pinnacle of church-grown youth: high school. All of us kids dreamed of the summer we would get to participate in the youth group and all the fun, cool things they did. Since Doug was three years older than me, I entered the high school youth group when he was a senior. I learned that year that he wasn’t weird or snobby. He was friendly and kind but a bit shy, especially around girls.

A year later, nine teenagers and two chaperones loaded up a fifteen-passenger van on a summer afternoon and took off for a week in Maine. That week sparked something between us. A rustic cabin on a lake, daily special activities, beautiful sunsets, star-filled night skies—it was the quintessential Hallmark week-long romance.

We swam, walked, sang, prayed, laughed, hiked, and grew close. I slipped climbing a mountain, and Doug caught me, forcing us into each other’s arms. I sheepishly thanked him as he put me back on my feet. The connection we were creating became electric. As we sat together in the van on the way back to the cabin, I fell asleep with my head on Doug’s shoulder. That became routine, as did back rubs in front of the fireplace.

One evening, we went on a moonlit canoe ride. Another, we laid on our backs, stargazing side-by-side. One chilly morning, Doug took off his down vest and wrapped me in it, leaving his arms around me for a long moment. It was obvious there was something special between us.

After returning home, Doug acted strangely. I assumed our connection would only grow after the week we spent together. But something was wrong. I asked Doug one day. “I thought we had something special going on. What happened?”

Doug replied, “Before our trip, I made a commitment to Young Life as a volunteer leader for one year. Because you’re a Young Life kid, we can’t date. But if you’ll wait a year, I would like to date you.”

“I’ll wait,” I affirmed.

Enter the villain. We had a mutual friend who had set her sights on Doug too. As part of her plan to get him and keep us apart, she told Doug I was dating someone else. Then she told me that she and Doug had started dating. I had noticed them together at times, but I didn’t ask him about her. I just took her word for it—a typical Hallmark movie relationship mistake.

It wasn’t too long after that development that Doug’s one-year ministry commitment ended. On the way home from a gathering with friends, I worked up the courage to ask him about his relationship with our mutual friend. “So, Mary told me that the two of you are seeing each other. How is that going?”

“What? I’m not dating Mary.” Doug looked shocked. “She told me you were dating Brad.”

“I’m not dating Brad. I’m not dating anyone.”

Doug pulled his truck into the church parking lot, which we just happened to be driving by at that moment. “We need to talk,” he said.

We spent about an hour walking around the church grounds talking. It didn’t take long to realize we had been duped but also that the feelings we had for each other the year before were still there. He asked me if I would go on a date with him.

Doug picked me up two days later for a picnic. We wandered through the woods and along a stream, where Doug pretended to push me in, which resulted in him holding me in his arms. The electric connection sparked wildly.

Three weeks after our first date, two days before Christmas, Doug and I were listening to the distinctive voice of Gordon Lightfoot singing “Beautiful” in the warm glow of Christmas lights when he kissed me. It was the sweetest kiss ever and still gives me butterflies when I think of it.

Three years later, on a beautiful spring day, I walked down the aisle of the church where we had grown up and vowed to be Doug’s wife with the words “I will, with the help of God.”

Honestly, if he had asked me to marry him at the end of that Hallmark-esque, one-week, barely-know-each-other, romantic trip to Maine, I would have said yes. So, don’t be so quick to write off those sappy, predictable Hallmark stories. Some of us have lived them and lived happily ever after (with the help of God).

“Oh, magnify the Lord with me and let us exalt his name together!” (Psalm 34:3 ESV – the verse we chose for our wedding program and our lives.)

Our Isolation Anniversary

This is the week we were supposed to be in Italy, celebrating our 35^th wedding anniversary (May 25). We had it planned. Had the dates and the villa in Sicily. We hadn’t pulled the trigger on the flights because they were much more expensive than we had hoped. We were waiting to see if they would go down. They probably have gone down. A lot. I haven’t checked.

Our second choice was going to be an Alaskan cruise. Doug is not interested in going on a cruise even a tiny bit. But I have always wanted to do the Alaskan one and thought I could convince him because Stephen Curtis Chapman is hosting one that happens to be over my birthday. It was the perfect storm: favorite musician, 35^th anniversary, my birthday…enter COVID-19. That swirling and gurgling sound coming from the bathroom is my one and only shot of a cruise going down the toilet.

Oh well. Instead of spending a week in an exotic place, we have spent the last two months at home together. With elective surgeries being cancelled, Doug’s hours were cut in half, and he had zero on-call hours. We were able to spend most of our days together, organizing the basement, taking long walks and scenic drives, and giving lots of foot massages. It has been fabulous! I am looking forward to retirement, if this was any indication of what that will be like.

We’ve “eaten out” a lot more than we normally do. In an effort to support our local restaurants, we’ve ordered take-out every weekend from at least five different restaurants. It’s good we’re taking longs walks together every day, since we’re “eating out” so much. When we started walking, I was doing about a mile a day. Now we are up to almost four miles a day. On our walks we’ve met more of our neighbors, talked over some really deep stuff, and explored more of our neighborhood, all while holding hands. Our walks often end by sitting on the front porch sharing a little bit of Merrymead ice cream.

Nope, this week wasn’t what we had planned. We haven’t visited Sicilian villages filled with overflowing window flower boxes and quaint trattorias, sampling the gelato at every chance. The last few months haven’t been what we would have planned. But it has been a time of increased spiritual growth, physical strength, and emotional connectedness that we otherwise may have missed.

Most importantly, our love for one another has deepened. I feel for those who have been completely isolated during the shutdown. It has been such a blessing to go through this time with the love of my life. I’m looking forward to things getting back to normal soon and especially seeing our kids and grandkids in person. But for now, I am completely content spending my time with the one person who has meant the most to me for 35 (plus) years.

Dandelion Love

My three-year-old granddaughter loves dandelions. It is her mission in life to pick every dandelion she sees. She thinks they are beautiful and highly prized. With great pride, she presents her bright yellow bouquets to her mother, who is instructed to put them in water to keep them pretty. In her world, the only thing better than a blooming dandelion is a dandelion that has gone to seed. The seed-filled puff balls are picked and the seeds blown, sometimes with a few sticking to her little lips. Dandelions bring her joy.

Driving to church yesterday, my husband pointed out a field covered in dandelions. He sort of groaned, but I commented how happy our granddaughter would be in that field. That got me thinking how different our perspectives can be. To some, dandelions are just a nuisance, a weed to be eradicated from an otherwise pristine lawn. But to others, they are beautiful and even desirable. I’m okay with dandelions. To me they herald spring, which I am always happy to welcome.

I heard a radio commercial this year asking people to allow dandelions to bloom because they are one of the first and most vital nectar sources for pollination. They serve a very important purpose. Without them, we might not have other plant species we love or foods we enjoy. We can take a lesson from the lowly dandelion.

Sometimes I see myself as that dandelion that others dread seeing and would like to get rid of. I know I can be annoying. And I feel sometimes that I am not contributing anything of value to others’ lives. But then I remember my granddaughter and her perspective on dandelions. That is how God sees me. To him I am not a nuisance. I am his beautiful creation. And he has given me purpose and equipped me to serve others in my own unique way, that I may be a blessing to them and bring joy to him.

My worth doesn’t come from who or what I am, but from him. He made me. He gave me life. He died for me. He desires to have a relationship with me. So, like the dandelions in my front yard, I’ll keep growing, reaching toward heaven, doing my part to glorify the God who made me and loves me as I am. I will trust him to use me in my little sphere of influence to do the works he has prepared for me to do.

“For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” (Ephesians 2:10 NIV)