One evening, after eating dinner with J and my roomates, J and I wandered outside below the student center. The autumn air was brisk, and we found a little patio area that was sheltered from the wind. There was a retaining wall 4 feet high, with flower beds nestled in the planter above the wall. Tall evergreen pines leaned together above us. I sat up on the wall, and J stood, resting his arms on the wall's edge. I took a deep breath, and told him about the letters I was getting from the missionary. I expressed my frustration over the lack of revelation I was receiving.
“How do you feel when you pray?” J asked gently. I wrinkled my nose, and told him of my confusion, and how out of touch with God I was. “Why aren't I getting the right answer, why am I questioning everything?” I pulled out my most recient letter from the missionary. J looked surprised when I handed it to him - “Go ahead, read it. I'm just so confused.” I watched as he read the letter, unsure of what I wanted J to tell me, but knowing I trusted his opinion. His face was blank as he read, a few times his jaw would tighten, but he'd see me watching him, and he would imediately relax his face, refusing to give his own feelings away.
J finished the letter, and handed it back to me. “E,” he began, “God will let you know what is right for you. But you have to decide, then pray. Maybe you will marry him. Maybe you will marry me. Or maybe you'll marry someone else entirely. This missionary can't tell you whats right for you, and neither can I.”
“But I've been praying, and I'm just not getting an answer.” I told him.
“Are you expecting Heavenly Father to tell you what to do?” He asked. “Because a lot of times, we have to decide what we want, go for it, and ask God if THAT decision is correct.”
I went home that evening, irritated. Deciding who to be with was a huge decision. I knew if I chose to be with J, that we would get married – that's where it was headed. I knew that the missionary wanted the same thing. This was my eternity I was trying to choose. Why would God make me decide one something this important? Why couldn't he give me an answer, so I knew exactly what I was supposed to do?
I decided to give J a chance. I begged Heavenly Father to tell me if I shouldn't be with J. I sat quietly, waiting for a voice to tell me what to do. There was no voice. I decided to rededicate myself to the missionary. I prayed my heart out, but all I felt was confused. I was worried that I was doing something wrong, that somehow I wasn't worthy to know who to marry.
Conference weekend came, and J invited me to come down to Utah and spend the weekend with his family. We drove down with his roomate and friends, crammed in an old clunky Buick towncar. As we left Idaho, and crossed into Utah, the roads were filled with construction, and the traffic crawled along the freeway. The drive was long, and I snuggled against J's side, with his strong arm around my shoulders. His chest rose and fell softly as he breathed, and I closed my eyes. I could be happy with this man. He was amazing, and would take care of me. I had fallen in love with him. I fell asleep praying, “God, I choose him. I want J. Please let me know if that's okay?”
PART 7 HERE
PART 7 HERE