Last week I was in the garage late at night setting up our kayak. We've got a foldable two-person model that we can take traveling and store here in the condo. I like it for it's practicality, but also because it's modeled after the boats used in the Arctic by the Inuit people centuries ago. They would stretch walrus skin over a frame made of whalebones to create kayaks that would flex with the waves and feel almost alive. Ours does to. It's amazing.
Anyway, it was late and I was a little tired and I was struggling with one of the "ribs" that run across the width of the boat. I twisted and forced it and it just wouldn't go. I was sweating and getting frustrated and about to give up when I noticed the number on the rib didn't match the number on the frame. I was trying to force the wrong piece into the boat. I could have been there all night and it never would have gone. So I rummaged around in the gear bag, found the right rib, and tried that one. It almost magically snapped into place. It was a feeling of such deep satisfaction after a struggle - like hearing good news after being concerned about a loved one, or when the motor roars to life even though you've left your car's lights on and you're far from help and home.
I felt that way when I first met Leslie. Yes, I know, it sounds cliché. Fireworks went off, planets lined up, angels sang. Whatever. I knew in a day. That's all it took. I'd found the one. Now, all I had to do was figure out how to tell my current girlfriend that I'd met my future wife and it wasn't her. This was especially tricky since she was Leslie's roommate.
After about a week it was unbearable. I had to break it off with her. We'd been drifting apart for a while, and now all I could think about was Leslie - the woman I was destined for. I met my soon-to-be-ex-girlfriend on campus and asked if she'd like to go for a walk in the school's nature preserve - about forty acres set aside behind the school with a large pond in the middle. We walked out the deck overlooking the pond and sat down. It's an inspiring spot - a place where many of today's Calvin College students were likely conceived 20 years ago. I took a deep breath, turned to her, and said, "We need to talk."
"Yeah, I know," she said. "I've been needing to talk to you for a while now."
I was relieved. She was going to break up with me. I wouldn't have to tell her about Leslie or anything. Just look kinda surprised and mention the part about staying friends and this would all work itself out.
"You go ahead," I suggested.
"OK, well, this is kind of hard for me to talk about, but I've been struggling with this for some time now. I've been seeing the school psychologist about this problem I can't seem to deal with. I've got an eating disorder. And I'm just so glad I've got you in my life to support me and help me through this… What did you want to tell me?"
"Oh, uh, well, it's not important."
The next day I met with the psychologist who told me that she wasn't doing too well and that it would take a lot of therapy and support to get her through this. And for a couple of weeks, we all did just that. And an interesting thing happened. I became very good friends with Leslie as we struggled together to support her roommate. I had put aside any notion of dating, romance, or any of the other awkward parts of a new relationship. Instead, we grew to be close and respect each other.
Soon, the situation got worse. Hospitalization was required, and Leslie's roommate was Canadian, meaning she was sent home to socialized medicine. It was a tough time for every one. A couple of days later, Leslie and I were talking about the whole situation when we finally realized that we had grown much closer than friends. We fell immediately into a deep relationship, and it wasn't more than a couple months later that I asked her if she wouldn't mind spending the rest of her life with me under a hazy California moon in my parents' front yard.
That all feels like yesterday. In 10 years we've risked everything to chase uncertainty twice - moving to Santa Barbara with no jobs or place to live so that Leslie get a Masters degree; once for me to take a crappy job at a crazy new magazine called Wired. It always seems to work out. And we're still doing it - I've started a company with the smartest people in the world, while Leslie completely shifts gears to attend Seminary. Looks like the next 10 are shaping up to be just as exciting as the last.
Our religious tradition has a creation myth that describes a woman being created from a rib taken from a man. In today's modern world, that may come off as unduly patriarchal, but as always, the literal story offers a lasting lesson. Our marriage is one body, held together with the structure of love, trust, respect, and the deep joy of being partners through this crazy adventure. Just like the ribs that fit so perfectly into place and hold our boat together as we paddle through the bay.
I can't imagine anything more exciting than a future together with you.