In the months leading up to Joey’s and my engagement, it was no secret that he was going to ask me to marry him. Back in those days, I really, really, really hated surprises. (You think I’m weird now? I’m way more neurotic about a few things five or six years ago. True story.) He knew this about me, because we talked about everything. We talked for HOURS and HOURS and HOURS.
We still do that.
One evening, we drove out to Jordan Creek and, as we walked past a jewelry store, Joey grabbed my arm and whisked me inside to get my opinion on rings.
I didn’t care so much about the ring. Honestly, I didn’t. He could have given me a Cracker Jacks ring and I would have been happyl what I wanted was to marry him. And (this will sound totally weird to all my Dallas readers) the budget was so tight at the time, because Joey was working to pay for school as he went, that we considered just getting the wedding band first (it was cheaper) and add the “engagement” band at the wedding. Do it in reverse order.
Like I said before, I didn’t care one bit. I just wanted to marry Joey and the ring on my left hand was an inconsequential bonus.
Looking back on it we probably could have taken out a loan for the ring, but that’s not the way we roll in this Woestman house. ANYWAY.
Since we had looked at rings together, and I had tried on just the wedding band by itself to see how it would look, I knew we would be getting engaged soon. And then, because Joey knew me so well, he told me what day he would ask me. (That way I wouldn’t freak out.)
He chose the day before Thanksgiving.
He found me while I was at home in my tiny little 275 square foot apartment, that I shared with my dear friend Sarah (hi!), baking Thanksgiving pies.
I pulled the pumpkin pie out of the oven and set it on the counter as he walked in the door and presented me with a long-stemmed, deep red rose. He recited Elizabeth Barret Browning’s How Do I Love Thee poem. Then, he got down on one knee and asked me to be his wife.
I said yes.
Then I looked at the rose. On the stem was the solitaire engagement ring we had picked out together. Not the cheaper wedding band, but the actual engagement ring. The way normal people got engaged.
I gasped and asked him how in the world he had gotten the money (did he rob a bank?), because just a week before we had looked at the budget and it was not going to be possible.
He just smiled at me and said that God had provided a way. And He had.
What I love about the way Joey and I got engaged is that it was so ordinary. No production, no big show…just life. Together.
Five years ago, we had no idea. NONE. We were naive little children and we never would have guessed how our lives would pan out. But when things get super crazy and I feel like HOLY COW WHAT IS UP WITH OUR LIVES I can look down at my engagement ring and remember that Joey loved me when life was ordinary. He loved me before he knew there were things wrong with me. And he loves me when life is cah-ra-zy.
We laugh deeper and we love deeper because of all this…stuff.
And, when I really think about it, my ring is a symbol of God providing for our marriage in a small way – giving Joey means to actually buy me a real ring. I know he cares about the details. I know he cares about me. But golly gee it’s easy to forget sometimes.
That’s why I love my ring.
