I’m at that point in my life where I’m starting to think very seriously about what kind of man I’d want to spend the rest of my life with. The more I think about it, the more I’m beginning to realize that I don’t have so many personality characteristics in mind that my future husband has to have, so much as a way of life that I envision for myself once I’m married. The type of relationship I want to have with him.
“She doesn’t belong to me. She belongs to God. I am simply the caretaker of her heart on his behalf.” -Anonymous
It’s very important to me that my husband be a man of God. Someone who will help me to follow Jesus and grow in my faith in Him, and someone who will be a good father: one who lives his faith and shows his children by example. And now I digress to a scene:
I fell in love with a pair of shining blue eyes. They saw me from across the church. They inspired in me a funny bubbling in my stomach, a tingling in my senses. The kind of awakening that says, “I have to know this man.” We always seemed to be bumping into each other at the church, gradually exchanging bits of information. “I’m Seamus.” “I’m Kira.” We ran out of excuses not to see each other.
Seamus is the perfect gentleman. The kind that I felt I never deserved. He always knew how to show that he cared- by opening in the door, by putting his jacket around my shoulders if I showed signs of being cold… the little things. Those tiny little gestures that are a lost art in today’s culture. And so, I fell, but I was lucky because he fell too.
I fell in love with a man of God. I loved Sundays. Seamus would pick me up at quarter to nine every week, and together, we’d go to Mass. I knew I’d found the right man when he wanted to go to Mass with me. My relationship with God grew stronger because I was with Seamus.
One particularly bitter Sunday in January, Seamus and I sat in our every-week pew, huddled together like birds of a feather because he had seen me shivering slightly. I loved the way his big, warm hands engulfed mine as if breathing life back into them. And Mass proceeded as usual. It was the homily that got me. A story of a poor, homeless woman named Fayette who found her way to a Methodist church in Tennessee where she discovered the fire for faith. There, she took classes to be baptized, where she would say, “And when I am baptized, I will be…?” The rest of the class would always reply, “Precious, a child of God, beautiful to behold.” As the story went on, we learned that some time after her Baptism, Fayette was beaten and raped, but even when the pastor of the church went to visit her in the hospital, she still recognized her identity as “precious, a child of God, beautiful to behold.”
Walking out of Mass that day, I felt a little troubled. When we got in the car, Seamus turned to me, taking my hand in his, and said, “What’s wrong?” with a gentle, knowing look on his face. “It’s just… I feel guilty being so loved by a man as good and holy as you when she didn’t have anyone to love her.” For a moment, Seamus just looked at me in silence. “You are an amazing woman.”
“I’m not trying to be. I just feel things,” I replied, honestly. He leaned over and kissed my temple. “That’s what makes you so amazing.” I smiled at my hands in my lap as he started to drive to a nearby family restaurant. I fell in love with a man who understands me.
(The homily mentioned in this scene was actually one that I have heard and impacted me greatly. It served as the inspiration for this scene.)
This scene obviously says a lot about me, the kind of man I want to marry, and the kind of relationship I want to have with a man. But I don’t need to explain that all. I just know that when the time is right, God will send me the perfect man for me. And I trust that He knows me so well as to send someone who is more perfect for me than I could have even imagined. I trust that he’ll send me a man of God.
P.S. Blue eyes actually aren’t one of my “qualifications.” I’ve had plenty of luck so far with brown eyes as well 😉