The Beginning (A Long Story)

Eight years ago, I was an incoming Freshman at Clemson University. That really just doesn't seem possible to me. I had some amazing experiences that year; some of my fondest memories. And one of those memories begins my story.

Our FCA trip to Ridgecrest, NC in February was really exciting for me. There were not many people from our group of 1,000+ students going on the trip, which meant that I could get to know the people there a little more closely than I did before. On our first night there, we made a late night run to Denny's (I think), and as the group was chit chatting, the president of our organization, a Senior himself, made the statement that Freshmen girls shouldn't date. They were experiencing so many new things at one time and growing into themselves too much to be influenced and distracted by a guy. But, if they were to consider dating, they should only date underclassmen boys. Junior and Senior males would just try to take advantage of them, and exert their "spirituality" and "maturity" to try to impress the young, naive minds of the innocent Freshman girl. I respected this guy; quite a bit, actually, and even though he really wasn't talking to me specifically, his words struck me as interesting at the least. You see, I was in the process of being pursued by a guy who was in his Junior year at Clemson. I was debating the relationship, and I already had my doubts, but I wanted to know more about what our leader had to say.

So the next day, we were walking from one session to another, and I caught up with him. Asked him point blank what exactly he meant by his statement that Freshmen girls shouldn't date and how he could possibly make such a broad generalization without knowing individual circumstances. I tend to be a little defensive, so I'm not sure exactly how I came off in that moment, but he agreed to talk it out with me. So that evening, when we had retired to our rooms, there was a knock on our door. It was Mr. President. We then proceeded to spend the next several hours involved in conversation, much more about his heart for ministry and his vision for our organization than anything to do with dating Freshmen, and as he poured his heart out, I fell in love. I wouldn't have told you that then, of course. I was a Freshman girl. He was a Senior guy. He had clearly just conveyed his opinion on that mixture, and after my Freshman year was over, he would be long gone. So falling in love was not really an option for me in that moment. But I sure did admire him and totally respect his walk with the Lord and his passion for ministry.

Fast forward a few months. It was now April. The school year was coming to an end, and Mr. President and I had become good friends. We were in the same places at the same times on many occasions, and we liked being around each other. So anyway, one fateful night at the beginning of April, Mr. President's personal printer ran out of ink. We were already talking on AIM (oh, how old that makes me feel), so he asked if he could run over to campus (he lived off) and use the computer lab on the first floor of our dorm to print his paper. Sure! I was already in sweats and a T-shirt with no shoes on when he arrived. After a successful printing, he suggested that we go to the student center to get some ice cream. I think I tried to get out of it because I didn't feel like I was dressed appropriately, but he was very persuasive. (At this point, I had already been to Hendrix Student Center for both dinner and a snack, so when we went through the line for my third time that night, the spunky young man at the cash register made some slick comment about my repetitive eating habits, which embarrassed me a bit.)

In the midst of our conversation, I made a very typical mocking comment about his old age, and his response completely threw me: he really wasn't that much older than me; in fact, his parents were eight years apart. Whoa! So did I miss something? We just went from he and I being two friends sharing some conversation over ice cream to a comparison between our age gap and that of his MARRIED parents! It was probably at that point that my mind began to kick it into high gear as I attempted to stay at least on track with if not ahead of his thoughts. (Please do keep in mind that for these few months, I have completely ruled out the possibility of a relationship between the two of us. He was not interested in Freshmen. I wasn't an option.) I'm pretty sure that my next question was, "What does that have to do with anything?" From there, it gets kind of hazy. Like I said, my head was spinning! He sputtered around for a minute, saying things that I really don't remember, and then he said, "Well, this may come back to bite me in the butt... but would you like to go out with me this weekend?"

And of course, after several moments of stammering through nonsensical half-sentences about my plans for the weekend, I said what any young woman who'd just been taken completely aback by an amazing but completely unexpected proposal would say: "I think I'm going to throw up." Yep. That's what I said. I'm not proud of it, but it's the facts. And after staring at me in disbelief for a few seconds, he then replied, "So is that a no?" No! No, no, no! It wasn't a no! I then tried to collect my thoughts enough to at least tell him that I would go out with him and give some pathetic explanation for my gag reflex.

See, I had written this guy out of my picture. It didn't matter how awesome I thought he was. It didn't matter that being a part of what he was doing made me so excited that I'd do anything just to be there. It didn't matter that I thought his heart was completely and captivatingly beautiful. And it certainly didn't matter that when he wore that green button down shirt and jeans... or those gym shorts with that sweatshirt and baseball cap... that he was pretty dang hot. He was a SENIOR. Who didn't think FRESHMEN girls should date. When that ice cream conversation in Hendrix turned from my mockery to his parental comparison, my whole belief system about our relationship began to crumble in a way that I didn't think was possible. A good way! A very good way! But it just took my body and mind a minute to catch up.

I didn't throw up on him that night. I did have to make a considerable amount of trips to the restroom upon returning to my room. And as I attempted to study for my astronomy test (earned a whopping 23% on that multiple choice test. That's not even as good as the probability score), I kept whispering, "oh my gosh! oh my gosh! oh my GOSH!" because I just could not believe it. HE wanted to go out with ME!

Three years and a few months later from that date, and four years ago tomorrow, that man became my husband. I could not be more grateful to share life with someone who's heart I admire and cherish, who's vision and ministry I respect and trust, who's journey I'm excited to be a part of, and who's also pretty dang hot! :) I love you, Jason Willard Dorriety. Happy anniversary tomorrow!