When Rita asked me to tell you my story, I noticed her blog theme was Inspirational Romance. Now, when I think of romance novels, I think of lovers. When I think of lovers—stay with me here, I do have a point to this—I think of romantic heroes from books. But where do these amorous men come from? Don't try to tell me real life, I know better. So do they all come from our imaginations? Maybe the better word would be our fantasies—but I won't go there for obvious reasons.
Borrowing a term from the late author Kristy Dykes, my "hero husband" is a Brit. But don't conjure up images of Hugh Grant. Believe me ... not all Brits are romantic like him. Now, don't get me wrong; my Brit tries, but somehow he's not the model for a novel hero.
What? You think I'm mean? No way. I'm just realistic. You want proof you say? All right ... here's what happened the night I met him. It was a blind date and I was paired with the other fellow. When it came time to go on the rollercoaster, neither of us was willing. I don't do rollercoasters and neither did he. When the other two came off, we remained in the new pairing. A few months later, we were married. So I guess you could say a rollercoaster brought us together, and his motorcycle cemented it, but was it romantic? Uh ... no. But I can say that we've been married 40 years and counting.
And he stuck with me when I took up this crazy world of writing. Of course, it was all his idea. I guess he figured anyone who could read 200 books a year (no exaggeration) should be able to write one and recoup some of that money. Boy, did he have that wrong ... the recoup part, I mean. Y'all know what most novelists make. And it isn't a quick trip to stardom. He thought it might be like my plays. The first one I wrote was published, and after that, my editor at LifeWay bought everything I sent her. Novels, on the other hand, are a whole different subject. I've been on this journey for 8 years. I've been to editorial committee and pub board so many times they've installed a revolving door for me.
But the hubs stuck with me through it all, and even through my "rollercoaster" search for my birth family. After finding my mother, who did not want a relationship, I honored her wishes and didn't contact her again. But I knew I had some sisters out there and would have loved to know them. Having no idea of their names, it was an impossible task.
I gave it over to God and forgot about it. Well, not entirely. A few times each year, I would think about them and wonder. Ten years after I found my mother, a friend of my sisters found me. The whole story is on my Adoption Share blog, if you're so inclined to read it. I flew to Seattle and met them. It was like we'd always known one another, we're so much alike.
Whatever your dreams are, I can testify that God is able and trustworthy with them.
Thanks, Ane for sharing. Sometimes we can go overboard on the romance. It's the love shown by commitment in the "stickativeness" through thick and thin! (Your Brit deserves a medal!)