He binds me up and gives me strength

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.

The sound of a tiny heart beat filled the room and it's rhythm flickered on the screen. My own heart pounded harder. I glanced over at Luke's face as he studied the black and white ambiguity on the screen in front of us.

Us. Parents. Soon. Week before, I'd cried that deep, painful hurt of tears onto Luke's chest as he stood, holding me, rubbing my arms and assuring me that I was going to be a great Mother.

About 2 years later, the same room, and another surprise.

"Well," the doctor starts, "I think I know why you've not been feeling very well."

I stare at the back of the ultrasound monitor, which the doctor has turned away from us just in case, as if me looking at the back of the screen hard enough will give me a glimpse of the other side.

The doctor flips the screen around so we can join him in his newest revelation, "Here's Baby A and here's Baby B. Let's see (scans around)....nope, just two."

Just two?

I taste vomit in the back of my throat and tears burn my eyes. Again, I look at my husband who is again standing by my side, grasping my hand. His face shows joy, exhilaration actually, and a stupid goofy grin that I'd have slapped off his face if at that moment he hadn't caught my eye and realized that I was about to lose it.

The doctor steps out for me to get dressed and I collapse onto his chest with great, heaving sobs. There's no way I can mother all these kids. Elizabeth is barely 15 months old. What is God thinking? (Oh how the Lord has a sense of humor!)

Just over two years later and once more I bury my face into my husband's chest as Aaron's birthparents cancel another visit and the pain of it is more than I can withstand. Why do they not care? He's a baby, how can they not want to see him?

6 months later, Luke and I cling to one another outside the courthouse, sobbing onto one another, taking in the tragedies of what we've just heard about our youngest child.

The road to our first 5 children were filled, seemingly, with me clinging to my husband and my God, often crying out with sob filled questions. I don't often understand the ways of God when they seem to contradict every fiber of my being. But when I look back at the road to us birthing and adopting our first 5 children, I can clearly see that I wasn't suppose to understand God during those trying seasons. Yet He continued to be faithful, even in my heartache

When I didn't think I was ready to become a mother, God knew I was.

When I didn't think I could be a mother to 3 children ages 2 and under, God knew I could.

When I didn't understand how someone could abandon their baby, God knew I could love him.

When I couldn't comprehend all my sweet girl had been through even before her first breath, God had protected her.

Psalm 147:3-5 speaks to each of these instances when it says,

He heals the brokenhearted
and binds up their wounds.
He determines the number of the stars;
he gives to all of them their names.
Great is our Lord, and abundant in power;
his understanding is beyond measure.

I don't think it's a mistake that these verses are clumped together. He binds up our brokenheartedness, all the while knowing all the stars in the skies - seeing as how He's named them each - and His understanding is beyond our ability to measure. He is in the details and in the majestic. He's in my day to day yet holds the universe in order.

Lately I feel as if life is again spinning out of control in many areas. Some aspects of our life seem to be moving at a pace much faster than I feel prepared for. I've clung to Luke so much during this season, looking to him for assurance, guidance and protection. Though the tears have been few, the emotions have been the same as the road to our first 5 children. As we look to God together at the months that lay ahead of us, we know that the one who set the universe in motion, who created more than we can comprehend, cares about the details of our lives. In fact, He promises to bind up my broken heart, give strength to the weak and as we walk through waters of uncertainty, He promises we will not drown.

Tonight, I sit in the assurance that He is who He says He is and He will do what He says He will do. Tonight, I rest in the comfort of Him and allow my soul to weep when my eyes cannot.

The Story of Us: Part 10

Read these first:

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9

Because of my obsession with having things even, I had to post a part 10. Okay, okay, I don't really have anything else to add, but I thought I'd go out on a limb and see if anyone had any questions about our story.

I will try to answer them, and I will even allow anonymous commenting.

Don't be offended if I don't answer your question, although I will try to answer all of them that I can, as thoroughly as I can.

So...here goes. Ask away!

**Commenting on this post is now closed. However, if you've read all other 9 parts and have questions or comments, please feel free to email them to me at beaverbunch (at) gmail (dot) com.

Thanks!**

The Story of Us: Part 9

Read these first:

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8

One weekend, Luke and I were laying in the bed talking about baby things. Okay, I was talking and he was probably clawing is eyes out. I wasn't even through my first trimester and EVERYTHING was about the baby. As we laid there, I thought to myself,

"We can't do this alone. We can't just raise this baby alone. We need a plan. We need direction. We need something bigger than us."

I was finishing up my first trimester when we went to the new members class at our church. I was still very apprehensive about this whole church thing. I mean, I knew there was a God, but I just didn't think that he cared about me and my day to day life. I figured he was of solving much bigger issues like World Hunger or Cancer. Nonetheless, Luke and I wanted to see what this church was all about. It was a Baptist Church and I had particular issues with the fact that women could not be considered for deacons.

Poor Bob (he's one of the associate pastors at our church), I think I really gave him a hard time. I kept harping and asking questions about why women couldn't be considered deacons and how was that Biblical. I had "came" from a Methodist church where there was a woman minister. Who did these Baptists think they were? Regardless of my attitude, we actually did make some friends that day. Sarah and Luke bonded over the love of mint chocolate chip ice cream and Phil and I bonded over our hatred of such nastiness. They invited us to their newly married Sunday School class. In there, we made even more friends.

Although I still had my guard up, these people seemed normal. They weren't perfect either and most of them were actually a lot like me. I was shocked.

Some Christians have a defining date, a moment that they KNEW that they had met their Savior. I don't have one of those stories. For me, just like with every other relationship I've had, falling in love with my Lord was a process. Slowly, things in me began to change.

I had a hard time letting go of my past, letting go of the dirtiness that plagued my heart. I kept waiting for the proverbial "other shoe" to drop and for God to really let me have it. I cannot pinpoint for you the moment I realized that my God is one that loves me for who I am, despite my countless failures, but the peace that came with that knowledge was overwhelming.

Just days before my second trimester began, Luke and I decided to join Rich Fork. As we walked forward, my heart raced. I didn't fully understand what this meant, but I knew I liked this place and these people. Since Luke had grown up in the church, he had been baptized as a middle schooler. I was baptized at 10, but remembered virtually nothing about it. With our joining the church, I decided to be re-baptized.

With Elizabeth growing inside of me, I publicly declared my belief in Jesus Christ and followed through with baptism. Once more, the change was not instantaneous for me. Slowly, God began working on my heart and our marriage.

I still didn't understand the whole "Christian" thing, and I had several moments of doubt. However, I began to understand what my BFF Amanda had said about a 3 strand cord. That 3rd strand had been missing in our marriage.

In it's absence, dishonesty, mistrust and confusion stood in its place. Now that God was that 3rd strand, the mistrust began to fade. I no longer felt the overwhelming desire to check Luke's email, browse through his call history on his cell phone or look in his car for signs of her. As pain from the past faded, it opened up new possibilities for Luke and me. We could now freely talk about things of the past, things we loved about our childhood, high school years and how we had experienced life. So much of that had been forbidden territory because of the jealousy and hurt that I felt each time our pasts were brought up.

Now, almost 6 years and 5 kids since our wedding day, I cannot imagine my marriage without God as the center. I've come to realize that God is loving and caring and, most of all, my Father. I see that Luke and I NEED God as that center strand, so that we can be held together. I cling to Him with the knowledge that He is the reason my marriage works. Without hesitation, I can say that had I NOT come to a deeper understanding of God and Christ, my marriage would not still exist.

The fear, mistrust and pain that used to burden my heart and from which I carried such baggage, has been taken up by the One who understands all pain. Our marriage isn't perfect, and neither am I. In fact, in writing this story of us, I must be honest in telling you that I have not picked up my Bible in almost 3 weeks. Yes, we still struggle in a lot of areas.

However, our marriage used to be bound by love. I have found that love can fade. Our marriage used to be bound by the physical. One day, the physical WILL fade (sad, but true). Our marriage used to be bound by fear. Fear that if we didn't make it, it would scar us forever. Fear is paralyzing. Now, our marriage is held together by the One who is the strongest binding agent available.

All those times that I desired to be rescued were not in vain. I have been rescued. I have been ransomed. I have been bought at a price. Our marriage has been saved. I love seeing how, each day, God makes our marriage new. He takes the bad, the good and the just plain ugly and weaves it together for His glory. He reveals His miraculous mysteries in ways that I could have never imagined. The contentment I feel within my heart and my marriage is like nothing I've ever felt before. It cannot be of the flesh, it must be of the Spirit.

I am not perfect, I am incredibly and exhaustingly flawed. I deserve to live in continual pain, but because of grace I have been rescued.

On August 3, 2004 we welcomed our first daughter into the world. Then, on May 30, 2006 Lucas and Ashlee joined our family. June 6th of this year our precious Baby D was born and on October 9th, Baby Girl was born.

Although "Our Story" is far from over, this is the point in the game where most of you already know our lives. Somehow, Luke and I manage to keep our marriage first. Above all else I have prayed that God would allow us to preserve our marriage through these hectic years. God continues to show His goodness. He has molded Luke into the wonderful husband and father that I am blessed by daily. And, He's even done some work on me, making me more humble, self-sacrificing and less anxious.

I pray that if you have gleaned nothing else from our story, that you have come to know us a little better. I hope that you have seen that our pasts are far from perfect and our "love story" is anything but a fairy tale. In the years that we have been together we have cried many tears, buried a few loved ones and mostly just grown up. It is my prayer that you will see us for who we are, incredibly flawed, hopelessly imperfect and totally surrendered to a mighty God.

As you read over what I have written to you, you'll be able to see for yourselves into the mystery of Christ. ....The mystery is that people who have never heard of God and those who have heard of him all their lives .... stand on the same ground before God. They get the same offer, same help, same promises in Christ Jesus. The Message is accessible and welcoming to everyone, across the board.

Ephesians 3:4-6, The Message

The Story of Us: Part 8

Read these first:

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7

Our wedding was a blast. All of our friends from college and high school came all the way to North Carolina in a tremendous display of support. Looking back, I think I just sort of expected it. Now I realize just how blessed we were to have so many people who cared about us and our marriage.

During the toasts at the wedding reception, my BFF Amanda said something that struck me. I don't remember it word for word, but she said that if we had God in our marriage it would last forever. She said something about a cord with 3 strands being strong. I brushed it off. I mean, Luke and I had made it through some pretty hard stuff without God. Why in the world would I need him now that we were married?

When we returned from our honeymoon, our friends weren't there. Married life was not what I expected. I was working as a 3rd grade teacher and Luke was traveling North & South Carolina, Georgia and parts of Tennessee. He would usually leave on Monday and return of Friday. I was lonely.

On the weekends, Luke and I had pity parties for ourselves. The only friends we had were my parents' friends. They were great, but they weren't OUR friends. Over the course of 3-4 months we contemplated moving back to Arkansas. Each time we talked about it, my heart would pound. I didn't want to be near her, I couldn't.

Finally, we made some great friends. They were good people and we spent every waking minute with them. We would go out every night of the weekend and life was great. THIS is what married life was all about. However, we didn't have that 3 strand cord.

It was Halloween night 2003. We were out partying, like usual. The night started off great and ended with the separation (and ultimately divorce) of our best friends. I was heartbroken.

That night, after visiting my girlfriend and seeing their emptied out house, I sat on the front steps of our home with Luke. I began to sob. It was the kind of crying where you just can't stop. The kind that rocks you to your inner core. I had never experienced sympathy like this before.

These were good people. They weren't "those" people. They were just like us. Then, it hit me. If they were just like us, what was keeping our marriage alive? What would keep us together?

I turned to Luke and asked him,

"Does this mean we are next? How do we keep this from happening?"

We muddled through the next few days, uncertain about how this could happen to people we loved, how this could happen to people who were good.

Two weeks later, Luke and I were laying in our bed. It was a weekend and I just had the strangest feeling. I got up, went into the bathroom and took a pregnancy test.

"LUKE! Can you come here please?" my trembling voice came from the bathroom.

"Yeah?" he said, walking in.

In disbelief, I pointed to the stick on the counter. "Does that say what I think it says?"

Wide eyed, we both just stood there.

Positive. I was pregnant. I was on the pill and I was pregnant. How does that happen? (I KNOW how it happens, you don't have to tell me.)

I LOST it. I cried and cried and cried.

Luke couldn't wipe that stupid grin off his face.

We were NOT ready to be parents. We had no money (haha, that's funny now), and this was not planned.

As I buried my head and sobbed into my husband's chest, he lovingly rubbed my arms and told me,

"You're going to be a wonderful mother."

Yeah, right.

Over the next few days, I had the worst abdominal pain imaginable. I went to the doctor SURE that I was having a miscarriage. After an ultrasound and lots of reassurance from the doctor, I left, with pictures to prove that I had a healthy baby (read: dot) inside of me.

As I drove home from the doctor, doubt flooded my mind.

"You can't do this. You're not ready. You haven't even been married a year. What if your marriage ends too? Where is your security?"

Then the big one,

"You don't deserve this baby. God will take it from you to repay you for all of the sexual sin you've had. Don't get attached."

For the entire first trimester I held my breath, waiting for something awful to happen. I shared my concerns with Luke, but I think he chalked it up to pregnancy hormones. He did, however, suggest we go to church.

What you may not know about my story is the excessiveness to which I offered my body in almost every previous relationship I'd had. Now that I was pregnant, I just knew God would punish me because of my mistakes. After all, God is a punishing God. He is self-righteous, and judgmental and ready to harshly remind me that I am wrong. He is stern, and coarse and unloving. For God to really love you, you must be one of those churchy people who never messes up. They've never had sex before marriage, they've never drowned their pains with alcohol, they've certainly never lived the life I have lived.

Apprehensive, Luke and I visited several churches in our area. Scared by a few of them (that's a whole post within itself), our last effort was at Rich Fork. We had visited a long time ago, and I wasn't that impressed. But, I figured why not?

We walked in and I knew it was obvious to everyone why we where there. We were the new people, clearly the hugest sinners in town. These people could see through my smile, surely they could judge my past with just a simple glance in my direction.

We took a seat and soon realized that the usual preacher was out sick. On stage was the (then) youth pastor. I wish I could say that the words he said stirred my heart and that day I gave my life to the Lord. Such was not the case. The truth is, the only thing I remember about that Sunday was that he held the microphone on his chin the entire time he spoke. It annoyed the crap out of me.

However, something about these people seemed more normal. We were not asked to stand, so that everyone could see we were new (and in my mind, mock us). We were not later called nor did we have hand written notes in our mailboxes (seriously, one church came to our house). In fact, we just sort of came and blended in.

I had heard preachers tell me that Jesus died for me. I had heard them say that I could be clean. Surely these preachers did not know my past. Certainly they hadn't seen where I had been. However, over time, something in me began to hurt. As the weeks went by, I hurt more and more. It was a hurt I could not explain. A physical and emotional pain beyond anything I had experienced. Now, I know where the hurt was coming from. It was coming from the One who had felt my hurt before, and He was drawing me to Him, begging me to come.

The Story of Us: Part 7

Read these first:

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6

I have never been good at hiding my emotions, especially when I'm angry. This time was no exception. Luke walked in the door, I didn't even get off the couch. Since my back was to the door, he couldn't see the tears streaming down my face.

Cheerfully, he walked over and plopped on the couch beside me, only then realizing that all was not well.

"What's wrong?" he asked me.

How could he ask me that!?! Every time he had been in contact with her, somehow I knew it. I would get this gut feeling and just know. I have had that feeling with nothing else in my life, and I could not explain HOW I knew, I just knew.

This time, I had not felt that. This time, it had taken me by surprise. It felt like someone had hit me in stomach with a baseball bat. All I could do was sit there, and stare at my feet.

Again, he asked me, "What's wrong?"

I finally looked at him, giving him a look that said 1,000 things, none of them were nice.

"She called didn't she?" he half asked, half stated.

I said nothing. I couldn't even look at him. Had he been deceiving me this whole time? Had I fallen for it because I was distracted by our new engagement?

"I promise you I haven't spoken to her," he said.

I stared at my engagement ring, wondering if I should dramatically throw it at him, like I had seen in the movies. All I wanted from him was a sacrifice. I wanted him to sacrifice that relationship for ours.

Luke continued to talk, but I don't remember a lot of what he said. Finally, he got up and walked into his roommates room, where they kept the answering machine. I hear him delete all the messages without listening to them.

I wish I could say that I remember every detail of that night and how we made things better, but I can't. Somehow, only bits and pieces of our story come back to me. Most times, I can remember specific details and other times I can't remember anything. I think my mind blocked out so many hurtful times, so that I could later focus on the good stuff.

I know that I ended up staying that weekend, and we did resolve things. He convinced me that he had, in fact, NOT called her and that she continued to call him even though he was not calling her back.

As my graduation date quickly approached, Luke continued to struggle with his job as a financial adviser. I had told him that when I graduated, I desired to move to North Carolina so that I could be closer to my mom.

Within a matter of weeks, my step-dad had arranged for Luke to be a furniture representative for his furniture manufacturing company. That meant that Luke would need to go ahead and move to North Carolina before the Home Furnishings Market in April.

I was thrilled. This meant, Luke would have a job AND he was leaving Memphis, away from her, away from our past. In April 2002 Luke loaded all of his possessions into his Honda Accord and drove the 700+ miles to North Carolina.

That next month, I graduated from Lyon College, ready to start my life as a wife and teacher. I moved to North Carolina the week after I graduated and we both lived with my parents while searching for a home. Life was good. The past was miles and miles away, he had chosen me. I had won.

One summer afternoon, while looking for teaching jobs on the internet, I decided to check Luke's email. I did this often, unbeknownst to him, because something in me still did not trust. As I opened his inbox, my heart sank once more. There was an email from her.

My hands began to shake and my heart began to pound as I opened it. I can't remember exactly what it said, but she eluded to the fact that they had seen each other just before he left, at a baseball game.

I called Luke into the tiny computer room at my parents' house. I sat back and pointed to the computer.

"What is she talking about?" I asked, angry.

He read the email, then read it again. He told me that he had decided to go to a final (minor league) baseball game before he left. He just so happened to run into her.

I didn't buy it. After much questioning, he confessed that it was a planned meeting. I was finished. I was finished with the lies, finished with the pain.

I can still remember the sound my engagement ring made as it clinked on the glass table top. I took it off and told him,

"As of today, you must choose. You can either have a relationship with her OR you can be married to me. You can't have both. The choice is yours."

I told him is options were to either call off our wedding or to sit, with me there, and write her an email telling her to NEVER contact him again. To tell her that it was because of our marriage that he could not continue a relationship with her.

He sent the email, and with a guarded heart I put my ring back on my finger. From that day on, she has not been an issue in our relationship. However, things were not peaceful.

You see, all my life I had wanted to be rescued. I wanted the dramatic love story (yes, I know our has been quite dramatic) where the guy rescues the girl. I wanted that so much more than I ever knew. I pushed those thoughts out of my mind and looked forward to my dream wedding.

On December 28, 2002 I became a wife. It was a remarkable day, one that I will never forget. But, this is not where our story ends. This is not where it becomes happily ever after. We had a good marriage, but something was missing. I still wanted to be rescued, I still wanted to be won. I had no idea that I would find that redemption through even more heartache.

A few days after we got engaged

Our engagement picture
(I'm working on getting a wedding pic)


On our Honeymoon

The Story of Us: Part 6

Read these first:

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5

Luke came immediately to Jonesboro and arrived at my grandmother's house just after I did. I was nervous about seeing him but also relieved that he was there to provide comfort.

The next day was the visitation. It was September 10th, also Luke's birthday. I felt so guilty that Luke was spending his birthday with my family at a funeral home. He continued to insist that it was okay, and there was no where else he'd rather be. We didn't talk much, we spent a lot of time just sitting together in silence. As my family accepted visitors, my grandmother, aunt and mom endured the majority of the tragedy. They witnessed my uncle's death and my sole role was to be a support for them. Luke was my crutch, ready to catch me when I needed him most.

That night, my family sat around the living room looking at pictures and reminiscing. I looked across the room and saw Luke sitting there, talking to my cousin's husband. I had no idea why he had come. I didn't deserve his support. He had no reason to believe that we would get back together. In fact, I was still dating new guy and he knew it.

As family trickled out the door, headed toward their homes to prepare for the funeral the next day, Luke and I finally got some time alone. We talked, mostly about his new job. We made small talk about volleyball season and my senior year. Finally, he asked me,

"So are we friends now? What is going on with us?"

I didn't know what to say. Seeing him be so selfless and come to my rescue sparked a lot of old feelings. However, in the face of death a lot of feelings get sparked. I didn't want to confuse the two. We decided to just be friends. That night, I slept on the couch downstairs and Luke slept in the guest bedroom.

The next morning, I woke up to the news blaring on the TV. I opened my eyes just in time to see the second airplane crash into the World Trade Center. For our family, it was already a day of mourning. Soon, it would be the same for our country.

We went to the funeral later that morning, unsure of the state of our nation. I was scared, not only because of the hurt my family was facing, but because of the uncertainty of our nation. The funeral and afternoon was a blur. My family watched the news constantly, trying to divert themselves from the reality of my Uncle's passing. All athletic events and classes were canceled for the rest of the week. That meant, I had a few extra days in Jonesboro.

In one of those following days, Luke and I had a serious discussion about our relationship. I told him all the ways he had hurt me and in turn, he told me how I had hurt him as well. Finally, he asked me what it would take for us to be together again.

"Never speak to her again," I said. For me the solution was simple. If she was out of his life, the problem would be solved.

His reply rocked me to my core. "If that is what it takes for us to make it, I will do that for you."

I was so shocked. Never had I ever thought that he would do that for me. I had asked him that so many times and each time he had given me a reason why he could not end it with her. This time was different.

I went back to college and broke it off with new guy. Immediately, Luke and I were making trips back and forth from Batesville to Memphis. I'd go see him, he'd come see me. Things were good. He had finally sacrificed for me, for us. We might actually make it.

On December 2nd, 2001 Luke had plotted and planned and concocted an elaborate scheme with my roommates and friends. That night, at my sorority's weekly meeting, I was knocked off my feet when he presented me with the most beautiful ring I had ever seen.

He proposed and I said yes. Things were going so well. We set the date to be December of 2002. Meanwhile, something began to stir in us. We began reading our Bibles over the phone each night and praying for our future.

I wasn't a Christian, per say. I had been to church and was even baptized when I was 10. However, my life was not like that of a person who followed Christ. Nonetheless, we felt this pull. As our relationships gained strength (more than it had in the 2 years prior) we grew closer. The walls around my heart were being torn down and I was trusting him completely.

One weekend, in the Spring of 2002 I drove over to Memphis to see Luke. We had arranged for me to let myself into his apartment since he would still be at work. As I sat in the living room, watching TV, waiting on him to get home, I was blindsided.

His apartment phone rang. Since his roommate also lived there, I felt it wasn't my place to answer. As the answering machine came on, my heart, once more, dropped into my stomach.

As a familiar voice filled the rooms of his apartment, I glanced down at my engagement ring. It was her. She was calling. I don't remember what she said, but I remember the feeling. It was the feeling I got EVERY time that I heard her name. A few minutes later, I heard Luke's key turning in the door.

I looked at my ring again, wondering if this was the last time I would ever wear it.

Luke's proposal, December 2nd, 2001

Young and In L-O-V-E

The Story of Us: Part 5

Before I continue, I'd just like to remind everyone WHY I'm telling you about how Luke and I came to be. My intention is not to cast stones at anyone nor point fingers. Trust me, I cannot cast stones at anyone because I too need stoning. The purpose is so that I can be as transparent as I know how. So that when you look at us, you will see through to the core of who we are and the center of our marriage. It is only through God's precious grace that I am the woman I am today, married to the most amazing, God centered man on the planet. Our marriage is only what it is because of the One who is our focus. Please do not lose site of that as you read on.

If you're new to The Story of Us, read these first:

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4

My hope was that the next year would be a rebuilding year for Luke and me. Instead, it was a year filled with deception, lies and hurt.

Luke had trouble letting go of the relationship with the baby's mother. I would ask if they had spoken and he would tell me, "No" only for me to find out that they had spoken the day before. Still, each time he promised to be honest and that the relationship meant nothing. I guarded myself. A relationship cannot reach full potential when one party is lying and the other is slowly building a wall around her heart.

We floundered through the fall semester with more of the same. They would talk, or see each other, I'd ask about it, he'd lie and I'd discover the truth. It was an endless cycle and one that continued to leave me with fresh wounds. By the spring semester I'd had enough. I don't remember the specific thing that put me over the edge, but I basically told Luke that I was done, really done. We broke up and decided that we should not even attempt friendship. We said we'd go back to being strangers, not even speaking.

Keep in mind that we lived only a sidewalk apart. We saw each other constantly. Finally, Luke broke. He came into my apartment one afternoon. He was headed to baseball practice and didn't have long to talk. He sat on the couch in the living room of my apartment telling me about how much he missed me. None of it really went more than skin deep for me. Then he looks at me (I think I was trying to avoid him by pretending to do homework) and says,

"I just can't do this. I can't pretend I don't know you. I do and see things and I want to share them with you, but I can't. Jessica, I love you."

My heart fell into my stomach and I was speechless. Even today I don't remember what I said after that. Luke got up, left and headed for the field. I sat there, alone in my apartment reeling from the words I had wanted to hear for so long. What did this mean for us?

We decided to give it another try.

Spring of 2001 Luke graduated. He took a job as a financial adviser with a firm in Memphis. It made my skin crawl.

Luke being in Memphis meant that he was closer to her. In fact, he resumed a night shift job working at the same place that she worked. I was furious. How could he do that to me? That summer, instead of returning to North Carolina for the summer, I took a job on campus.

It was a full time position and I dove into my job, caring for summer campers. As Luke and I struggled through more lies and pain, I became close with some of the other counselors. One in particular. He and I would stay awake, talking and listening to music. We would take late night drives off campus. With my new "friend" I had no walls, no reason to mistrust. With him, it was easy. Although I never physically cheated on Luke, my heart was unfaithful. Finally, I decided to break up with Luke once and for all. At that point, it was less about Luke and more about being free to date the other guy.

At the end of the summer, as I was moving out of the dorm where I was a counselor, Luke showed up unexpectedly. I think for him it was a last ditch effort to save our relationship. Although I still cared about him, it was a pretty emotionless encounter for me. The final straw was when I asked Luke when the last time he spoke to her was. When the answer was, "yesterday" it affirmed for me that we were finished. As I watched his car drive away, I was glad to say goodbye to that chapter of my life.

New guy and I dated the entire summer, even after our summer job ended. I came to North Carolina for the last few weeks of summer and pushed all the pain and hurt of my relationship with Luke as far away as possible. I had moved on and started a new relationship. I was happy.

I returned to college in the Fall of 2001 ready to start my senior year. Volleyball was in full swing and my relationship with new guy was going well. Everything was going well until that crisp September morning. The knocking on our apartment door jolted me awake. I opened it to find my volleyball coach. She woke up my roommates and sat me down on that same couch in our apartment. With a heavy heart she said,

"Jessica, I'm so sorry. Your Mom just called me. This morning, your Uncle Vaughn was in an accident. He didn't make it."

Tears began to flow. My heart was so heavy. I packed up my bag to head to Jonesboro. I wondered how I would be strong enough for my family. As I drove the winding roads back home I knew that I would need support too. New guy had never met my family and a funeral was NOT the place. Only one person knew me and my family well enough. I reached into my bag and dug out my phone.

With my voice trembling I said,

"Luke? Hey, it's me. My Uncle Vaughn died this morning. Can you meet me in Jonesboro?"

This time, I needed him.

The Story of Us: Part 4

Read these first:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Wow, you people are pushy. I'm writing this on Friday, but scheduling it to post on Saturday. Now, reach back, take hold and get your undies out of a bunch. ;-)

On with the story...

"Hello?" I said, trying to make my voice stop trembling.

"Hey, it's me. She's not mine." His voice sounded hurt, it was the first time I ever knew of him crying.

"What?" I asked for clarification.

"The baby, she's not mine," he repeated.

Everyone we hung out with had already assumed this because the baby looked bi-racial. However, out of everyone that was around Luke, no one wanted to be the one to say it. I had suspected this for a while now, but how do you tell your boyfriend that you don't think his baby is really his baby? Especially when he so obviously cares about her and her mother.

"I need to see you," he said as his voice continued to quiver.

My heart began to pound. I needed to see him too.

That afternoon he drove the 60 miles to Jonesboro from Memphis. We drove out to the county park so that we could just spend time together. Standing there, not really talking about anything, but wanting to talk about everything, my heart ached for him.

I knew that this new information meant that he and I actually had a shot, but the pain I knew was racing through his heart made my heart break for him. If I ever had to describe Luke in just one word it would have to be, loyal.

As we stood on the shoreline of the small lake, each of us searching for a good skipping rock, I glanced down at him. He was about 50 feet away from me, lost in his thoughts.

"Why do I care so much?" My mind was asking more questions than I could process. Suddenly the answer rushed in.

"You care because you love him."

That day I realized that I loved this man. I had no reason to love him, and I had every reason to walk away. However, that day I understood that love is something that your heart initiates, but your mind chooses to continue. My heart initiated the love for Luke, from then on loving him was a choice I would make.

Knowing what I know now about God and His ways, I can see that it wasn't me talking to myself, but God whispering in my ear.

Luke's continued loyalty manifested itself in every aspect of our relationship then, and continues to be something that makes me fall in love with him over and over again. For serious, if you look up "Loyalty" in the dictionary, it probably has Luke's picture beside it.

Because Luke believed (and still believes) so strongly in commitments, he had NEVER said "I love you" to ANY woman other than his mother. I knew this about him early on and it was something I respected. In fact, in one of our early conversations he told me,

"I plan on only saying 'I love you' to the woman I will spend the rest of my life with. Until I know for sure that she is the one, I will not say it to any girl I date."

Once more, loyalty. Loyalty to his future bride. The only problem was I knew I loved him. Did he know he loved me back? There was only one way to find out.

Before he left that evening, we stood outside of his car still only making small talk. Finally, as I leaned in to kiss him goodnight, I could contain myself no longer.

"I know you probably won't say this back, but....I love you."

He stood there and stared at me. I searched his face hoping to find something to confirm his feelings for me.

Finally, he said, "Thank you. That means a lot to me."

The funny thing is, it wasn't like how you see it in movies where the girl gets hurt and the guys is trying to avoid commitment and be a jerk. He really did mean it. He really was thankful.

After that day, Luke drove back to Memphis and I went to North Carolina for the summer, just like I had every summer since I was 14. We talked on the phone and he even made a trip over to see me. Things were going well and I was continuing to fall for him, harder and harder.

However, Luke still maintained ties with the baby and her mother. Somehow, he felt obligated to continue to care for both of them. As fall quickly approached, it would be Luke's Senior year and my Junior year in college. This would be the year that would test us the most. As he and I grew closer and he continued to see and talk to her, it would put a strain on everything I knew to be true in our relationship. Loving him truly became a choice. And just like with every choice, sometimes you often wonder if you made the right one.

Summer 2000, Luke's 1st trip to North Carolina

The Story of Us: Part 3

Read these first:

Part 1

Part 2

Luke and I start "talking" decided that we are going to take it slow. The NEXT DAY he rides with me back to Jonesboro (my hometown about 1 hour away) and meets my dad. The purpose of the trip was not for him to meet my dad but because it was my little sister's birthday and I was heading home anyway. He accompanied me on my trip.

We were almost back to school when he reaches over and turns off the radio. I'm driving, and he turns and looks at me and says,

"I gotta tell you something, and it may be a deal breaker."

I already knew what he was going to say (small college, remember?), but instead I say,

"Okay..."

"My ex-girlfriend is pregnant" he says, looking out the window, "and it's my baby."

I wish I could say that I had some remarkable reply, but I didn't. All I could muster out was,

"I know."

We drove for a little while in silence. Finally, I said something like,

"You know, we can just see how this goes. I'm not ready for anything serious either."

I don't know who was more relieved, him or me. It must have been on his mind all day because I know I was wondering if he was ever going to bring it up.

Over the next month we dated. That crap about not becoming serious flew out the window and it wasn't until I walked into my room early one December morning that I realized just how much I cared about Luke.

I had spent the night with some of my girlfriends, in their apartment. When I got back to my room early the next morning, I found a note. It said,

"Gone to Memphis. I'm going to be a DADDY! - Luke"

I stood there, in shock, with this note in my hand. I felt hot tears streaming down my cheeks. I crumpled up the note and threw it across the room. I couldn't believe this was really happening. I mean, I knew she was pregnant, but I guess somehow, I didn't see this day coming.

That night was my sorority's semi-formal. Two of Luke's roommates and best friends filled in as my dates in his absence. I thought I could go and drink away the pain I was feeling. Instead, I had a horrible time. I smiled for the cameras, danced and downed anything liquid that was handed to me. However, on the inside I was falling apart.

She had won. She had him. They were forever bound together by this child.

When Luke returned to Lyon he was a new person and our relationship was not the same. We still dated, but now he had this woman that he was in constant contact with. He would call her and ask about the baby and he actually cared. Why couldn't he just be a normal college guy and give up on this girl?

I will never forget the first time I realized that he really cared about her. We were sitting in his apartment and for whatever reason he said,

"Well, I'm gonna go call [First name, Middle name]."

What?!!?

You're gonna call her while I'm here? You are referring to her in an affectionate way, by calling her by her full name?

As he walked into his bedroom, I heard the door click shut. I heard his muffled voice speaking to her. I realized that this was more than I could handle.

Throughout the rest of the Fall and Spring the relationship that Luke and I had would crumble. He'd go to Memphis to see her, I'd cheat on him by kissing another guy. He'd be on the phone with her and I would not speak to him for days. He would talk about her or the baby to another person and I would avoid him the entire week, spending time with other guys in an attempt to make him jealous.

I checked his phone messages and deleted any that were from her. I rummaged through his room when he was gone for baseball trips. Anything that was from her I would comb through, reading every letter, every card and looking at every picture. With each word, each picture and each message the anger inside me welled up.

I was hurt, hurt beyond repair. Finally, I decided I'd had enough. I told Luke we needed to break up. I told him that this was too much for me to handle and I could no longer put myself in this situation.

Even typing about it now, some of those emotions resurface. That "pit of your stomach" hurt, that feeling of sadness. It was all too much for me. We broke up, but because it was a small campus we saw each other...a lot.

I still cared about him immensely, but I knew I could not deal with this other woman. Spring semester ended and I went back to Jonesboro and Luke headed back to Memphis. I was crushed, but I figured it was just another failed relationship.

I will never forget where I stood when I heard my cell phone chirping in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw Luke's name on the screen. I took a deep breath and answered. It would be the call that would change our relationship, the call that would give me hope.

For me it was the call that would mean a fresh beginning. For Luke, the call was the most heart-breaking one he'd ever have to make.