A Valentine Story

When I first moved to Moorhead, MN as a sophmore in college, I knew very few people. One person I did know a little was Max (not his real name), whom I had a crush on for about 5 minutes of my life. He must have known about this crush (surely I wasn't very smooth), because he tended to go out of his way to add just a little bit of rude to his friendliness toward me. But when I needed a ride from church on Wednesday night (I helped with the confirmation class) to the college-age Bible study, I swallowed my pride and asked him. He agreed, but afterward he high-tailed it out of there. What was I to do?

Well, there was this other guy, who we'll call Ole (mainly because that's his name), whom I barely knew. But he must have seen me looking pitiful and unsure, and he offered me a ride home in his fancy red Reliant K.

I think this was the night I started liking Ole.

Fast forward 2 1/2 years. We were both working at Bible camp together and our friendship had deepened as it was strengthened by the Lord. We were sitting in a room in the lodge with a bunch of family campers, a fire in the fireplace. He sat on a couch next to me and I can remember staring in his eyes (slightly awkwardly). A little girl named Elaina was roasting marshmallows and feeding them to Ole. Ole did not particularly want to eat marshmallows, but she was a bit persistent. Her mom told her to stop, and she ran away in tears. Ole went to her, scooped her up, and held her and talked to her until she calmed down, even got her to giggle.

That was the moment I fell in love with Ole.