Keeping A Promise

Okay, after just realizing that it's time for yet another installment of Fitness Friday...I cringe. I've not had a good week. In fact, to say that I haven't had a good week would be a gross understatement. I have had a very bad week. I worked out 0 times. That would be . (Zero with the ring rubbed out) So, let's move on to happier times shall we? Yes, let's!

I promised way, waaaay back when that I would share with you the wonderful story of how I met my hubby. It's definitely what I would call love-hate or hate-love kind of tale.If you care not to read on, then please feel free to stop here. Thank you. Otherwise, continue at your own risk.



I was fourteen years old, and had my first boyfriend...that would be a boy who was my friend. That was it. I did not date him, but I did write to him, as he lived far away. Occasionally, he would be at our church and we would sit in church together. It was nice to say to my friends that "Rick" (names changed to protect the innocent) was my "boyfriend". Of course, my parents and my pastor never heard me say the word "boyfriend" in regard to Rick, well, I don't think they did, anyway.I did not use this word because they believed I was too young and immature to handle having a "boyfriend"! Can you believe that? Me? Immature??? Rick, maybe, but me?

Okay. They were right, but I was in serious denial about it then.

I remember we were about to begin our annual tent meeting for the year. My Dad drove me to church on the first weeknight of the meeting (he had to work). I got there incredibly early so I could see him. But he was not there. And when he did get there, he didn't speak to me. He swished past me with nary a glance. See, I told you. He was immature. Well, I went on, undaunted, and tried to look like I fit in somewhere. I'm pretty sure I just walked around trying to look busy.

Church began. The music filled the tent to the brim. The summer heat settled down upon us. My best friend, Dixie, was home! Her family was in evangelism and they were scheduled for this meeting. It was so good to see her! She had been telling me about a guy she met, who was younger than she, who had been writing to her. (We all liked to write.)

"Valerie" Dixie said after the services were over. "I want you to meet Bumper. He and his family came down from Illinois."

"Oh. That guy you've been writing to." (How could I forget a name like Bumper???)"Okay." I followed her over to this skinny guy with dark hair and, well, rather large glasses. (Of course, I was breathtaking with my kinky, short hair and braces on my teeth.)

She ushered me outside the tent this boy, Bumper. "Valerie, this is Bumper. Bumper, this is Valerie." I managed a smile and an awkward fourteen- year- old hello, and that was about it. He didn't appear any different from every other gangily, fourteen year old boy in the world. He didn't sweep me off my feet. His greeting of "Hey." Didn't exactly bowl me over. It was definitely not love at first site. In fact, I couldn't believe Dixie had found the time or mustered the interest to even get acquainted with him.

I didn't make eye contact with him again. I don't think we had another conversation. But then, I was preoccupied with Rick, so my memory maybe a little off. Actually, you never know, all of this may just be a figment of my extremely over-active imagination! But I'm pretty sure this is all real. Anyway, I went along and talked to Rick, laughing loudly and tossing my kinky short hair about, never thinking about "Bumper" again... until Dixie let me read his latest letter to her a few weeks later. (The contents of which have permanently left my brain.)



Little did I know that this dark-haired boy would change my life forever.



To be continued...