“What are you thinking of, Anne?” asked Gilbert, coming down the walk. He had left his horse and buggy out at the road.
“Of Miss Lavendar and Mr. Irving,” answered Anne dreamily. “Isn’t it beautiful to think how everything has turned out… how they have come together again after all the years of separation and misunderstanding?”
“Yes, it’s beautiful,” said Gilbert, looking steadily down into Anne’s uplifted face, “but wouldn’t it have been more beautiful still, Anne, if there had been no separation or misunderstanding… if they had come hand in hand all the way through life, with no memories behind them but those which belonged to each other?”
For a moment Anne’s heart fluttered queerly and for the first time her eyes faltered under Gilbert’s gaze and a rosy flush stained the paleness of her face. It was as if a veil that had hung before her inner consciousness had been lifted, giving to her view a revelation of unsuspected feelings and realities. Perhaps, after all, romance did not come into one’s life with pomp and blare, like a gay knight riding down; perhaps it crept to one’s side like an old friend through quiet ways; perhaps it revealed itself in seeming prose, until some sudden shaft of illumination flung athwart its pages betrayed the rhythm and the music, perhaps… perhaps… love unfolded naturally out of a beautiful friendship, as a golden-hearted rose slipping from its green sheath.
Anne of Avonlea
Lucy Maud Montgomery
When last I wrote, my life was in such upheaval. I was cryptic, and I was cautious. And there were many reasons as to why.
But that time has passed, and now is the time for answers. Happy, lovely answers!
My dear friends, I’m getting married.
Let’s let that sink in. I’m getting married. Married!
It’s a simple story:
Girl meets Boy.
Girl becomes friends with Boy.
Three years pass.
Girl decides to become a missionary.
Girl develops crush on Boy.
Girl believes nothing will ever come of her crush.
Girl begins planning her move overseas.
Girl gets to a point where she realizes she has nothing to lose.
Girl asks Boy out.
Four months later, Boy proposes.
And Girl accepts.
Of course, there are many chapters in between those plot points—too many to share with you in a blog post. But yes, I was going to be a missionary. I had gone through quite the process: application, approval, training, fundraising, and commissioning. And when I asked my friend if he would be interested in going out on a date one night, I really had nothing to lose. My belief and assurance in the direction my life was taking, and my own low self-esteem from past dating experiences made me assume that even if this man agreed to spend time with me, it wouldn’t be serious. It couldn’t be.
Yet I hoped. I hoped, and I prayed.
And as the weeks passed, and as my relationship grew deeper, I found myself struggling. I had what I wanted: I had purpose, and I had love. And I was overwhelmed.
For a month, I prayed. I cried. I made multiple pro/con lists. And I prayed, prayed, prayed.
And God answered me–with such mercy and compassion.
I listened to what He said, and I resigned and resolved to give up a life measured in plane tickets and exchange rates for one that gave me roots and a home.
On the first morning of August, the love of my life knelt on one knee and asked me a question to which I could truly answer in pure joy.
I know God has many plans for me and for my fiancé, and I am excited to see what’s in store. And we will face those plans together, as God intended.
My friends, I am getting married.
And a new chapter begins.