An Amazing Story

It was December. A package from Federal Express arrived. I opened it, not sure what was in it. A packet of booklets fell out. It was a quarterly selection of Sunday School papers from LIVE magazine. “My article!” I exclaimed. I quickly sorted through the complimentary copies of the winter quarter of papers. My publish date was February 9, 2025.

Whenever I see my writing in print, I get excited. It’s a banner day when I see my words in print with my byline next to it. I flipped through the five or so pages of the brochure. There it was, right on the front page. “God Cancels a Wedding and Supplies a Husband,” their title for the article. I’d called it, “Two Amazing Prayers.”

I read through the article for the hundredth time. Flipped to the front again, looking for my name. It wasn’t there. No where in the pamphlet was it there. My story was there, just not my name.

I emailed the editor asking why my name wasn’t there. He responded they were very sorry, but somehow my name had been left out. There was nothing they could do about it.

For days, I stewed about it. I didn’t get credit! I was paid, but my name wasn’t beside my words. After a few days of agitation, I realized I needed to let it go.

As I asked God to help me grieve and forgive that loss. He reminded me not audibly, but through my thoughts–which is the Holy Spirit. God reminded me he wouldn’t forget my name.

I will never blot out the name of that person (Shirley) from the book of life, but will acknowledge that name (Shirley) before my Father and his angels (Revelation 3:5 NIV).

When I asked Jesus to come into my life and be my personal Savior, I was told my name was now written in the Lamb’s book of life. One day, the book will be opened and my name will be acknowledged and I will be able to spend eternity with my Savior, who paid the price for my redemption.

Below is the amazing story that is true:

I was jilted. There. I said it. Just five weeks before our wedding, I got the phone call that ended our relationship.

“It’s over. I can’t marry you. I just don’t think I can say the vows.” His voice was cold and unemotional. This wasn’t the guy who had earlier sent loving texts to me.

I stomped upstairs, my stomach churning. I was hurt and humiliated.

Who was this man I had been engaged to? I thought I knew him. But did I really?

We had a long-distance relationship and we saw each other only every other weekend. When we were together, we were overjoyed to be together. There was no time for disagreements or personality traits that might come into view.

“What are you thinking about?” I asked Ron (not his real name) one weekend morning. We were having coffee together, this time in his town, planning our future together.

“Thinking about?” He said roughly. “I’m not thinking about anything. Do I have to be thinking something?” He growled and abruptly got up from the sofa.

I didn’t know what to make of it. He had always seemed so kind. I was frightened. After a few moments, he came back and sat down beside me, acting as if nothing was wrong.

Later that day, I drove the three hundred miles back to my home and pondered our conversation.

The very morning I received the “dear Jill” phone call, I had talked to God about my worries: “I’m not sure if this marriage is in Your will, but if it isn’t, You will have to break it up. I can’t do it.” When I uttered that prayer out loud, I hadn’t understood why I said it. Now it began to make sense. Was this God’s answer to my prayer?

Perhaps it was. This sixty-something widow—me—had already been widowed. Twice. Wasn’t that enough loss for one person? I felt this new rejection fiercely, and realized I must make a life as a single person and not put my hopes in another man.

I learned to do things by myself instead of as part of couple groups. I traveled, found fulfillment as a facilitator of a grief group, met many new friends as an inspirational speaker, and enjoyed a wonderful relationship with my grown children and siblings.

I still missed the company of a man, though. I missed the banter and different ways of looking at life that couples experience. Earlier, I’d been on several online matching services, but this time I decided to enroll in one that gave a more detailed personality quiz. This will be a better match, I told myself while I filled in the blanks.

One morning a few days later, I sat down for my quiet time. The sun was shining warmly on my shoulder and I breathed a prayer, If this matching service down’t work, Lord, I won’t do any more searching. You will just have to drop him in my lap! And Lord, I said with a smile, would you make him crazy about me? Leaving it in His hands, I felt settled. My future match would not come about by my manipulating someone into being the right person.

Two weeks after my conversation with God, a new match popped up on my screen.

What he said got my attention. He talked about his faith and seemed unashamed of that faith in God. Jim also talked about his family and his love for them. We emailed back and forth, and one morning a few days later, he asked to meet me for coffee.

In the bustling coffee shop, I looked for him and hoped he’d look like his picture. There he was, a trim man dressed in jeans and polo shirt with a full head of salt-and-pepper hair.

There was an immediate connection between us. We talked nonstop for more than two hours. Before saying goodbye, Jim asked me for another date and I agreed.

After the one date, there was another, and then a third. It didn’t take long for us to realize we were right for each other.

One Friday morning, we took a drive. As we headed south on the freeway, Jim asked, “Would you like to stop at the Grotto on our way?”

“I’d love to. I’ve never seen it.”

We strolled along the quiet pathway hand in hand. I felt so comfortable with this man whom I’d know only nine days. The early autumn morning was cool. Tendrils of fog hovered among the green ferns that flourished in the rocky gardens, making it look like a fairyland. He explained, “I like to come here and pray.” Soon a larger-than-life statue of Jesus carrying the cross loomed into view.

“Oh, that’s beautiful!” I breathed as I looked up.

“Turn this way, so I can see your face while also looking at the face of Jesus,” he said.

I turned as he asked and he knelt, facing me. My heart quickened as I began to realize Jim’s intentions. What will I say?

“I just want to say this in front of the statue of Jesus, the One who guides me in everything I do.” He took my hand, “Shirley, will you marry me?” In his left hand, he held a small box.

“Yes!” I said, as certainty flooded my mind. “I will!” Jim stood and picked me up in his arms and swung me around with joy. I giggled, filled with tummy-pinging delight.

“When should we get married?” I asked.

“The sooner the better, I think! Christmas is my favorite time of the year. Do you think we’d be ready by early December for a Christmas wedding?”

“I think we could.”

And then began a whirlwind of wedding plans, purchasing a home together, arranging for our families to meet.

Three months later, on a frosty December morning, we were married.

Nearly six years has passed since that day when I decided the more expensive online service was the place to meet my guy. Often, before we drop off to sleep Jim kisses me goodnight and says, “Did I tell you how much I love my life with you?”

In the dark, I smile, “I love my life, too—and of course, you!”