Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

July of 2005 brought a wedding (not mine) -- my brother married his California bride in San Jose. My family made plans to fly out and spend an extra week after the wedding as family vacation time, sightseeing and touring the Bay area.  I said goodbye to Conroy, making arrangements with him to pick me up from the airport upon my return.  I still wasn't sure how I felt about him.  I felt no closer to any concrete decision about moving forward in a relationship with Conroy than I had on the day he told me of his feelings.

"He's just a friend,"  I assured my inquisitive aunt one night in our hotel room upon ending yet another two-hour conversation with Conroy.  "Hmmm, "  she murmured cryptically.  "You don't spend two hours on the phone every night with 'just a friend.'" This statement stuck like a burr in my mind.  And so did Conroy.  Being away, not seeing him every day as I was used to doing since we worked together and lived on the same campus --- I realized how inextricably my life had become woven with his.  He was my best friend already. I wanted to share every part of my day with him (thus the long phone conversations).  But was this enough?

The words of a good friend of mine echoed in my head:  "Conroy is one of the godliest guys I've ever met!  I don't know if I've ever been around someone so passionate about God!"  Her words had nudged me a bit out of my complacency.  If I didn't make a decision soon, perhaps some other wonderful, more deserving girl (like my friend) would snatch him up! Her statement also prompted the memory of my list of qualities in an ideal guy written as a teenager --  passion for God and passion for people topped the list.  Anyone who knew Conroy at all knew that he exuded those qualities.  What else could I possibly want or ask for?  A tiny thrill of fear/excitement shivered through me.  Could he actually be the one God had for me?  What if I made the wrong decision and let this amazing man slip away?

I enjoyed the time away, relishing time with family and friends, rejoicing with my brother in his happiness. The unintended result of this time apart for Conroy and me proved to be helpful in giving me the clarity I was looking for.  At least, I began to see myself as leaning more toward saying "yes" than not.

The Tipping Point

In early July of 2005, my phone rang toward the end of the evening.  Conroy asked if I would meet him in the Student Development Office downstairs (my apartment and the Women's Dorm were on the top two stories of the college's academic building).  I agreed and came down to the office to find a student had stopped by to chat.  Quickly dismissing the student, Conroy closed the door after her and turned his attention to me.  In response to my questioning look, he calmly yet firmly stated that he needed to tell me that he was interested in me.

My mind reeled with a hundred thoughts.  Just that afternoon, I had spent time with the Lord in repentance for an empty flirtation I had allowed myself to become distracted by.  Conroy's statement of intentions coming so closely on the heels of my renewed commitment to honor The Lord in my singleness seemed incongruous.  I remember thinking that surely I needed time to "prove myself" to God again before He might "reward me" with a relationship.  Surely I must do some penance first! But how gracious our God is to forgive, and His gifts are not tied to our performance or "worthiness," thankfully!

Rapidly following this line of thinking came the inner question, "Am I interested back?"  Per the growing realizations discussed in previous posts, I knew I was interested enough not to immediately slam the door on Conroy's expression of interest.

These swirling thoughts resulted in a stammered response along the lines of  "I don't know.  I'm just not sure right now."  I don't remember how much else I expressed of what I was thinking.  I do remember a couple of Conroy's follow-up remarks, including wanting to get a chance to tell me how he felt before the next potential suitor came along (to which I almost laughed aloud -- for the vast majority of my twenties I had not had one suitor; this past year, my 28th year, had simply been a fluke).  Conroy also asked if me putting him off should be interpreted as "please pursue me."  Subltely and mind games between men and women had been a frequent topic of past conversations between us, so this question did not seem out of context to me.  In fact, it had the effect of reminding me just who is was I was talking to --- a dear friend with whom I could always be open and comfortable.  I laughed and shook my head in response, "No, I'm not playing games with you.  I just need some time to think about it.  Let's not change anything right now."

But words spoken cannot be unspoken, and so, though the comfort level never changed between us, a heightened awareness hung over our interactions over the next few weeks.

The Evolution of a Friendship

October 2004 - June 2005 proved to be a difficult time for me emotionally.  I was 28 and still single, struggling as never before with this reality.  A couple of prospects appeared on the scene, but both were obviously wrong for me.  Conroy moved on (apparently reading my non-verbal signals quite accurately) and began dating someone else during that time as well.  Throughout the year, we maintained our friendship, continuing to run together, brainstorming and collaborating on ideas for our respective dorms and the college students in our charge.

In May of 2005, a couple of key conversations pushed open the door in my mind allowing me to see Conroy in a new light.  The first conversation took place over an impromptu Chinese dinner at a local hole-in-the-wall diner.  I was vacillating over ending a relationship with the latest guy, discussing with Conroy my concerns (his own dating relationship had ended by this time, as well).  He wisely and succinctly cut through my rationalizations and pointed out a very real concern. Worded carefully, yet so full of truth, the clarity of his statement stopped me in my tracks.  As I nodded my head in concession to Conroy's point, I could hear the proverbial nail hammering the coffin shut on any potential relationship with the guy we were discussing. At the same time, I found myself respecting Conroy's wisdom and becoming more aware of the influence his opinion had on me.

Another incident where I turned to Conroy for wisdom and direction occurred over a sticky situation in the women's dorm where I was partially at fault.  Once again, his clear, direct advice hit home, and I resolved the issue as he advised, recognizing the wisdom of his words.

 For me, these incidents were important turning points in my realization that Conroy was someone I could respect and follow.  Like most women, I wanted a strong leader as a life mate. I knew I would find it hard to follow someone whose opinion I did not respect.  It was rare for me to seek advice of any male outside of my own family.  So the very fact that I found myself turning to Conroy for guidance was especially significant to me.  My relationship with Conroy had moved from one of him seeking me out for advice (as a new RD), to a peer working relationship, to friendship, and now to viewing him as a spiritual leader.

Just Friends

Conroy sought me out that summer of 2004 to get my "advice" and take on being a dorm parent.  He asked if we could go for coffee at Barnes and Noble so he could "pick my brain" about being RD (resident director).  Though I'm sure he genuinely desired to do well at his new job, in later years he confided that he was also looking for a way to get to know me.... Seeing that we were the only two RDs on a campus with only one women's residential hall and one men's residential hall, it was inevitable that we would need to work together.  I did not question his motive for the Barnes and Noble date/meeting, having no designs of my own on him at that time.

We both remember that conversation at Barnes and Noble with fond clarity.  The easy conversation over coffee and carrot cake quickly departed from any prepared questions of Conroy's.  Being a normally reserved person who felt that it took me awhile to warm up to people, I was pleasantly surprised at the immediate comfort level I felt with Conroy.

That initial meeting led to many more "work-related" get-togethers and conversations.  I say "work-related" because they always started out that way, then usually sidetracked into more personal, friendly conversation.  Conroy found out that I liked to run, so we often drove to a park or local track to run together and chat.  I still did not feel anything other than a friendly connection with Conroy and sometimes worried that I should not encourage these long talks lest I give him the wrong impression. We talked a lot about relationships and what we were looking for in potential spouses.  While these conversations really worried me that he may be hinting at something, I also convinced myself that since Conroy is such a friendly, personable guy, he probably talked this way with everyone.

Parenthetical note:  My hesitancy regarding Conroy at this point had more to do with our age difference than anything else.  I simply did not view him in the light of a potential boyfriend/husband.     He was (and is!) a great guy --- fun to be around and easy to talk to.  I saw him as a good friend whose company I valued greatly, but that was the extent of my feelings for him in the fall of 2004.

Ships in the Night

So Conroy arrives in the United States to attend (then) Practical Bible College in the fall of 2000.  I return from China and begin teaching at a small Christian school in Cortland, NY.  Perhaps we saw each other at times when I drove down to college to visit my brother and sister who attended Practical at that time.  I have no real recollection of Conroy at that time.  Now in the same general location, still we ran in parallel circles, barely overlapping, fighting our individual battles, growing through the challenges God placed in each of our lives.

For me, the next few years involved a lot of moving and continued soul-searching, battling it out with God about where my niche in life was as a young single woman with a desire to be used of God.  I moved to California and back, settling briefly in Scranton, PA before being asked to come back to Practical Bible as the women's residential director in the fall of 2003.  I believed this move was a direct answer to prayer for me to find fulfillment and purpose in ministry, using my singleness for God's glory.  So with a full, expectant heart, I gladly accepted the call.

My first year as RD was Conroy's senior year of college.  During this year, I still did not really know him well, but saw him from a distance and knew him by reputation.  At the end of the school year in the spring of 2004,  the Department Head asked me for my professional opinion of Conroy in regard to hiring him as the new resident director of the men's dorm upon Conroy's graduation.  I remember replying that, though I didn't know Conroy well, he seemed to have good character and to be well-respected by the other students so I had no objections.

In the summer of 2004, Conroy was hired as RD at (now) Davis College, and the parallel lines of our lives converged irrevocably.

Retracing Our Steps

Two things prompted the decision to tell our story in detail.

1.  I've read other blogs recounting their own love story.  I've enjoyed the stories and have been blessed!

2.  The Thanksgiving study has challenged me to recount and record God's faithfulness.  I'm always so encouraged by this exercise, whether it's just a personal reminiscence or in a conversation with others, that I know it will be meaningful to me now.

Our story begins before we met.  I love to retrace what was happening in our lives at the same time, literally oceans apart.  I suppose I could start at birth, believing as I do that God had us in mind for each from before time began, but I will spare us all that lengthy of a retelling.

Winter of 1998-1999
My senior year of college.  No man in sight with whom to share my life and ministry calling.  My journal entries from this winter sigh and cry out to God for direction and sustainment.

 A December entry reads, "Today, Lord, when the loneliness crept in, I offered it to You as a sacrifice.... Allow me to whisper this plea -- Let these times not be for nothing. May I know the joy of a husband's love.  I ask that these moments of weeping be followed by joy in the morning..."

Uncertain of the future, yet desiring to be used of God, I began preparations to spend a year teaching English in China following my college graduation in May of 1999.

Meanwhile, across the sea, in Jamaica.....  A young man receives the clear, unmistakeable call of God on his life.  On January 17, 1999, Conroy asks his father if he can say a word in the Sunday morning service.  Standing tall in front of the waiting congregation, Conroy turns and glances meaningfully at his own pastor-father, declaring, "This morning, The Lord has called me to be a minister of the Gospel." Over the next year , he makes preparation to attend an American Bible college.

What If......?

So I was at the library recently, browsing titles while Jacie played in the children's room when I came across a book about The Only Child (I don't remember the exact title).  I picked it up, surfed the Table of Contents, and skimmed over chapters that caught my interest.  Of course, as a secular book, it was missing many of the Biblical reasons to have multiple children, but much of it was addressed to the parent(s) who did not plan to just have one child.  Some beliefs/"myths" (their term) were cited such as feeling that your child will miss out on the "big, happy family" scene -- lots of playmates, forever friends, "us-against-the-world," "loyal-to-the-end" siblings.  I found myself nodding in agreement --- this is certainly one of my great fears/sadnesses as I think about Jacie being an only child, even if it's just for a block of time.  The book tried to "correct" that notion, saying that some sibling are competitors, fighting more than friends.  It also alleged that only children are more confident, achieve more, and are happier in general.  The book warned that children pick up on parents' projections, so that if a parent believes that her only child is somehow "gypped" of siblings, the child will pick up on this perspective and feel bereft and robbed, too. However, according to the book, if the parents are content with only one child, the child will not have experience any sense of "missing out."

As stated before, I took much of the book's reasoning with a grain of salt since it was written from a secular psychologist's standpoint, but it did cause me to re-examine my own attitude.  Perspective is everything, they say.  Some people plan for and want only one child.  So they would view me as crazy to be upset or affected in any way by having only one child.  Our perspective is also influenced by the people around us. As a theologically conservative Christian, I have deliberately surrounded myself with friends, family, books, blogs, and other media from this same conservative Christian perspective.  Rightly so, the family emphasis of these sources celebrates children in unlimited numbers, encouraging adoption in addition to biological children.  So as I mentally backed up to analyze my perspective after perusing the library book, I wondered how much of my sorrow and disappointment is based on an expectation that has been shaped by the influences in my life.  Maybe the beautiful image of a successful Christian family = many kids, all happy, healthy, well-disciplined, and home-schooled should be replaced by the reality that God's definition of a successful Christian family differs for each one, according to His Divine Sovereignty.

This isn't the first time I've had to re-align my thinking from the Christian culture around me.  As a single woman in my 20's, I did not fit the "good Christian girl" expectation of getting married right out of Bible college.  I wanted to.  The expectation was just as much mine as it was the church's.  Bible reading, biography reading, and prayer brought me to the rightful conclusion that following God's unique plan for my life meant serving Him in whatever state He had me.

The connection I'm making between singleness and "single-childness" makes sense to me.  Not that I will not continue to pursue God's leading for more children -- either biologically or by adoption or both -- but that maybe it's okay to have only one child.  Obviously, this IS the state He has me in -- by design, not by accident. Doesn't belief in His sovereignty mean that we accept what He's given us, realizing He gives only good gifts? Sadly, I would be fearful to even voice this view to some well-meaning Christians.  I know that the rebuttal will be "But I know so-and-so who adopted"  or "have you tried this....?" Back in the day, childless couples just accepted their childless state and filled their lives with service.  I know several older couples like this -- missionaries, Christian school teachers, and church leaders. Lest any of this rambling be misconstrued, I am so pro large families and I am so pro-adoption!  But might I be so bent on fulfilling these goals/expectations that I miss God's plan for my family and me?  Am I putting words in His mouth when I assume that a lack of biological children necessitates adoption?

Mullings...  musings....  thoughts still in process....