The 5th Grade Sunday School Room | Where we first met

I met my husband for the first time in 5th grade.  My parents dropped me, the new girl, off at Sunday School where I sat perfectly silent hands to myself until my parents picked me up again.  Over the months I slowly, began to talk to just the girls, eventually showing my wild goofy colors.  But when it came to boys especially him, over the years I remained silent.  We only saw each other on Sundays, where we hardly if at all talked.  All the girls liked him, but I would never let anyone know how cute I thought he was…no one.

It was during a missions trip to Mexico that we had our first legitimate conversation over a game of spit.  I was seated apart from the entire youth group in the front of the plane on a 6 hour flight. I once again sat quietly next to two strangers until I was given the opportunity to switch seats.  I gave a sigh of relief and headed towards the back of the plane where I sat in the two seater row next to Matt.  It was unavoidable, we had to talk.  To avoid awkward sophomore small talk, I asked him if he wanted to play a game of spit.  He replied that he had never played, but sure.  I then began to teach him, feeling a little excited that my competitive appetite would be satisfied as I would definitely win.  We played a full game in which I crushed him with my speed.  He then asked for a rematch and then another.  After a few games of boosting my ego, he beat the girl who only lost to her older brother.  If I could replay footage of that moment, I am sure you would see my jaw drop.

Throughout the rest of the trip we returned to our usual shyness and continued to hardly speak.

One evening as we returned from painting and teaching vacation bible school, I was the last to pile in the youth group van.  Once again the only seat available was next to Matt.  Everyone dosed off during the long ride from the days work and heat.  Packed in like sardines, I prayed to keep my eyes open because I just knew that if I did fall asleep my head would either bounce against the glass of the window or land on his shoulder…and I just couldn’t risk anyone thinking I liked him.  Because if anyone would have asked I would have blushed…because deep down I thought he was really cute and no one outside my family could beat me at spit.

And this is us just 1 year later…as you can see I introduced him to my goofy side.

P.S.  Just for the record…once again no one outside my family can beat US at spit.


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