I would sit wide-eyed every time my boyfriend, Trey, would tell stories about how his former meth dealer ran his business by intimidation—wielding pistols and crowbars. The dude was right out of the movies.
For me, the best part was that every tale was confirmation that Trey’s stint as an addict was really over, as if he was looking back into a life he had left behind. Three months after we began seeing each other, I found his meth pipe, and I told him there was no way we could stay together. To keep me, he said he just needed to move away from Imperial Beach and his meth friends. I believed him. I had a drug past as well.
We started going to the Rock and suddenly both Trey and I were growing in Christ. Things were going great for us.
That is why it was so surprising that my spirit kept saying that I should no longer be with him. He was making every effort to be all I wanted—even beating his meth addiction. Yet there it was. “It’s over. Walk away.”
We were at the Rock and Pastor Miles said, “Some of you are sitting next to people you shouldn’t be.” I started sweating. A month later, I told Trey I had to break up with him. It was awful. We cried and held each other in disbelief. But I knew God was calling me to a closer walk with Him.
But I knew God was calling me to a closer walk with Him.
Soon after, a friend told me I should apply for a job at the Rock. I didn’t have a degree so I knew it couldn’t happen. Even so, I prayed, applied, interviewed, and prayed some more. When they offered me the position, I cried like a baby. God had spoken loudly to move me away from Trey and now He was moving again.
The Rock was a dream job. I liked my life and job more every day. I was in my office one afternoon and decided I would walk to the kitchen. As I made my way there, I began to pray, “Dear God, thank you for this job. And thank You that You’ve removed all distractions. I mean, there’s not one guy here that I’m attracted to…”
Suddenly, a guy walked in front of me.
“…except for him.”
He had a bad boy style that I had always liked.
“What am I doing?!” I chided myself. “Stop that!”
I immediately felt drawn to him. Horrified, I got a drink of water and leaned against the counter deep in thought about what just happened. I had just felt a wave of attraction to a man whose face I hadn’t even seen.
“Oh, no.”
A few days later there was a knock on my office door. It was him. Awful news—he was handsome. I stood. “Yes?”
“Hi, I’m Greg. I’m supposed to fix a wall?” he said, his blue eyes looking into mine.
“Over there,” I said too loudly. He began to assess the wall. Nope, I thought to myself. There’s no attraction. I sat down to resume my work.
Through the corner of my eye, I looked at him again.
Stop it!
In the following days, I prayed that God would take this from me. “I don’t want to like him. Please,” I begged, “not him. Not now. I’m already in love with You.”
“I don’t want to like him. Please,” I begged, “not him. Not now. I’m already in love with You.”
I decided to learn all the reasons not to like him. I happened to walk into an elevator and heard him say to someone that he had been a Christian a short time.
Ah ha! I thought. I need a mature Christian!
Then he mentioned that he just finished the Iron Man program, the ultra-rigorous spiritual training.
Rats!
I was running out of excuses. Of course, none of my fears mattered as long as he showed no interest in me, and so far, he hadn’t. “Thank You, God!” I exclaimed—but did I really mean it?
A lot of us employees would meet for dinner whenever we could. I had included Greg on some e-invitations and he always responded, no. Okay, I thought. If he was interested in me, he’d come.
Then one day he showed up at my office and handed me a cupcake. “What’s this?” I asked.
“Well,” he said rather embarrassed, “I ate a cupcake in the kitchen and then I saw the box said ‘Save for Sarah’s son.’ I’m really sorry I ate your son’s cupcake.”
He had bought a replacement. It was the sweetest thing ever. He looked at me with his soft eyes and I stood speechless. I stammered a thank you and went back to my desk. “Oh, that’s just great, Lord. Just when I was starting to believe he had no interest. Now this!”
I texted Greg to see if he wanted to join a bunch of us at Chili’s. I had to do it. I had to know if there was something to this.
Of course, he said he didn’t think he’d come. Whatever, I thought.
Later that night, we were all sitting at Chili’s chatting. My friend, Nick, was talking to me—but I was far away—inundated with thoughts and feelings for a guy I didn’t want to think or feel about. I’m too old for this, I thought.
Just then I got a text from Greg. “Still at Chili’s?”
Nick was in mid sentence when I stood. “I have to go!” I grabbed my things and walked away with Nick’s mouth still open.
I rushed out the door, my heart pounding. “Meet me at IHOP?” I texted.
Dear Lord, what am I doing?
When I met him in front of the restaurant, I had the urge to apologize. What sense did any of this make? As we were about to sit, he asked, “So what happened with Chili’s?”
Oops. I hadn’t thought up anything to say to that. I searched of an answer. “Well,” I said, “You’re really the only one I wanted to talk to anyway.”
My eyes shot wide open. What did I just say? His reaction was much the same, like, did she say that?
I excused myself to go to the restroom and immediately went to the mirror to yell at it. “Are you crazy? What are you doing saying something like that? Could you be any stupider?”
I went back and sat down. This is where I was going to act like nothing that just happened just happened. “So, where you from?” I said with a flick of my hair.
“Imperial Beach,” he replied.
“Really? I used to date a guy from there named Trey,” I said.
“I used to know a guy from South Bay named Trey.”
I then asked him what that Trey’s last name was. It was the same Trey I had dated.
“What? How did you know him?” “I was his meth dealer.”
“What? How did you know him?”
“I was his meth dealer.”
My heart jumped. Suddenly, I knew God was orchestrating the stare we shared. We were looking into the future as we looked at each other.
Two hours later, a worker was vacuuming around our feet as we closed the place down. Greg walked me out and when we said goodnight, we hugged. It felt like I was being welcomed into a new life.
I got on the freeway, trying to put the pieces of the night together, to make sure that what just happened just happened. It was 12:30am. My phone rang.
“Hello?”
“It’s Greg. I just have to hear your voice.”
POSTSCRIPT:
Greg and Sarah were married eight months later.
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