He entered my life at a time when I was disillusioned with single young men. I had just come back from Bible school out of state, and the young men that I liked didn’t seem to notice me. The socially awkward loner, however, did notice me, and I ended up spending my time avoiding him as much as possible. Difficult to do when considering we were in the same delegated ride for weekend activities. I spent my ride times pretending to be asleep, hiding behind a seat so he couldn’t keep staring at me in the rearview mirror. Happy and relaxed, I was not.

But then I went home, far away from Loner Dude, and suddenly he was there. He, as in the man I was going to marry, although I didn’t know that, of course. He was present at more youth and church events than I was, made friends easily, and seemed to enjoy life. I spent my spring ignoring him; after all, I was over those creepy single guys. I didn’t wish for any more experiences as the target of awkward attention. One instance of being watched for an hour while I sat at a picnic table with a friend, and Loner Dude paced the drive and watched me, was cure enough.

But then, as the fates would have it, Country Boy and I ended up in the same small ministry group together. And man, he was fun to be around. Comfortable, easy to talk to, good with kids. I found myself enjoying his presence, even when the little voice in my head said, “I thought you weren’t going to like him!” It’s hard to dislike someone who makes you feel safe and valued.

While I was trying to ignore him, Mama was on duty. Not usually one to pull punches, she surprised me with a statement. “That man’s gonna make someone a good husband some day,” she said, after observing Country Boy at the church campout. Really, I thought. I wonder what she’s seeing. I suppose that was the turning point in my perspective towards him. Up until that point, I saw only red hair and freckles and his throaty diesel truck. But after Mama’s little tip, I was clued in. I started evaluating him in a serious light. “Could I like that guy? Could I live with that red hair?”

As the summer wore on, my siblings began to throw comments around to see what I would say. If I said that Yoder and Miller were common last names, they might say, “Well ‘Bower’ wouldn’t be quite as common, would it?” I was a little confused. Did they know something I didn’t?

Unknown to me, his older brothers and parents told him too, “Why don’t you date her?” He kept saying, “She’s not my type. She’s a nice girl but I don’t want to date her.” He had been told many times that opposites attract, so he was looking for a quiet servantly girl to complement his outgoing personality. But I was 19, a Lab puppy with too much energy, and he was looking for a snoozing fireside Saint Bernard.

He would have probably kept looking over my head if it weren’t for a good friend’s input. After a night of singing with a ministry group, he asked his friends Darrell and Teresa what they thought of the service. “The singing was fine,” Teresa said. “But I think you need to date that soprano girl.”

“What? Why do you say that?”

Mrs. Perceptive explained her observations. “You and her both smile a lot, engage with the audience, you act so much alike on stage; I think you would be compatible. You need to date her.”

Anthony continued to give his excuses, er, reasons, “We’re too much alike, I want a wife that will submit and not run me over”

Mr. Perceptive tapped his wife on the shoulder. “Honey, sometimes, guys don’t get it. They just don’t get it.”

“Obviously!” She laughed. “Still think you ought to ask her out, see what she says.”

I remember seeing that conversion, the three of them talking in the comfortable way that old friends do, and then he directly headed my way. He came and talked to me, although neither of us remembers what we talked about then. Something casual and easy to discuss as he considered me through his newfound lens.

Within two weeks, our ministry group was headed out of state for a week of travel and singing. The RV in which we traveled had numerous breakdowns, and I closely observed his responses to the breakdowns. Man, he comes through like a rock. Calm and unflappable. At one point, he and another guy were under the RV for an hour, trying to fix some leaking lines. They emerged covered with grease and grinning broadly. He seemed to view breakdowns as a challenge he enjoyed solving.