All I wanted to do was sleep, watch Twilight with some girlfriends and talk until 3 a.m., but there were thirty youths waiting to go on a hike to the magnificent Falls Creek Falls in Carson, WA. Surprisingly, when I called home I found that my mom and dad were coming and that Trevor was at the house helping make sandwiches.Odd...I thought to myself.
Rewind almost 9 years to a swimming pool baptism service, I turned to speak to my friend and came face to face with the most long-lashed, green eyes and...bright yellow shorts! Well, that’s what hit me first. A few years later he’d tell me that his first thought was “that’s the kind of girl I want to marry." Only two weeks earlier my mom and I were having lunch together and I told her I was so happy not to have any guy drama, really, I was very content. Sigh. Smile. I continued eating my sandwich.
So Trevor Marquis and I became friends, both of us had very busy lives so most of our conversations were by phone. In fact we became so comfortable talking for hours on the phone that when we’d see each other, shyness would take over and a rather stilted conversation would ensue. I thought he was the most interesting guy I’d ever met, the most attractive by far...but we were headed in two different directions. At the time he was racing wave runners and working three jobs while I was heading off to college, hoping to do mission work in a Latin American country. We lost contact for almost two years. I never thought I’d see him again, but I thought of him almost daily.
Through a string of crazy circumstances that are too complicated to try and explain in a few sentences, we ran into each other, and the long conversations resumed. But this time I wasn’t so starry eyed over “Mr. Cool”, oh no, it was much worse. The “just friends” deal wasn’t doing it for me.
One night he called me from Dog River Coffee, after the “how was your day” small talk, he blurted out “this, this...friendship can’t go on...” my heart sank. I knew what he was referring to, that’s right, I was just the friend that he talked to, not the girl who had his heart. So I started to say “I know, well, I hope...” In my haste to cover the pain, I almost didn’t hear him say “I really really like you and want to know if you feel the same way about me”. We had both made serious mistakes in past relationships and desired to honor God, each other and our family this time. That being said, I took a big breath and said, “I REALLY like you, would you be up to talking to my dad about starting on this adventure?”
After a long conversation in a cold car, my dad said something to the effect of “I just don’t think you’re the right guy for my daughter," to which Trevor replied “what would make me that kind of guy?” For starters: learn Spanish (my dad is the pastor of a Spanish speaking church, my mother and her side of the family are Mexican), have a good job, a degree, etc., etc. And while this may seem ludicrous to some and most would have probably thrown their hands up in disbelief, Trevor took it as a challenge and set to work. For the next few years, our relationship was incredibly difficult in a stop and start kind of way as we talked on the phone and often cried into the wee hours of the morning. He came to our church as a drummer on the worship team (I played keys) and we worked together leading the youth group events. He endured the endless (good-natured) jokes in Spanish about being a “gringo” and not being able to roll his “r’s”, but as time went on and we went through this trial, we fell more in love and were more convinced that there wasn’t anyone else in the world we’d rather be with.
Now flash back to the day in Carson, WA. It had been eight years since we’d met and we set out on a hike--our future still uncertain.
The hike to the falls was difficult, my sleep deprived brain was mostly busy trying to tell my feet not to slip off of the narrow, rocky trail as excited teens rushed past. All of the sudden, rose petals start appearing on the trail in front of me. Very, very odd. Little did I know that my dad was running ahead of us, throwing down rose petals all the way to the rocky ledge over-looking the triple waterfall. The next few miles were a jumble of dodging falling rocks, climbing up slippery paths, and running from angry wasps . . .no one got to the top of the falls without at least being stung twice. My dad was there, with a big grin on his face. I found myself standing in front of the whole group of family and friends, thinking to myself that we were about to do an impromptu skit, when Trevor pulled something out of his pocket! The thunder of the cascades faded into the background as he got down on one knee and presented me with a sparkling ring.
December 17, 2009 (three months later), I was again staring into those green eyes, the warm tropical breezes of Zihuatanejo, Mexico caressing our skin. We committed to love one another through every adventure life would bring, knowing that together we could weather any storm.
So when our beautiful little boy, born six months ago, one day asks “Mom and Dad, how did you meet?” It’s going to be a looonnnngggg bedtime story!
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