Darla

You know how every now and then you cross paths with someone, and though nothing momentous transpires, they change your life for good?

Twenty years ago I decided to go on a mission for my church, which starts out with a stay at the Missionary Training Center (MTC). We lived in a dorm-style setting with our assigned companion(s), and learned such things as we'd need in order to be successful (eg: foreign languages, how to share the gospel, the importance of separating whites from darks when doing laundry.)

I'd been there for almost a month of my 9 week stay when we got some new missionaries in our room (there were about six of us to a room, as I recall). One of these missionaries was named Darla, and she was going on a mission to the Canary Islands, which sounded so much more exotic than my intended destination (Texas).

Darla and I did hardly more than sleep in the same room. We didn't have the same classes, didn't meet together for church, were entering and leaving the MTC at diffferent times. We might have eaten a meal at the same time but aside from time in our dorm room, we didn't interact much.

But she was one of those people that was impossible for me to not adore. She was light. She radiated good. I was drawn to her like a moth to a lamp. That was a particularly messy, difficult time for me. It was at the MTC that I saw a counselor for the first time, and started facing the abuse from my past. The turmoil inside made it hard to focus on the things I was supposed to be learning (Spanish, for example). I was struggling to fit in with my two companions, who seemed to hit it off with each other while I felt left out. So it was a hard time.

But then Darla arrived...lighting up the room with her tremendous spirit. Meeting her was one of the highlights of my short time there. All too soon it was time to move on.

Life went by. We kept in touch a little bit, but I think the only other time we saw each other was eighteen years ago when Doc and I went to her wedding reception. We waited in a line that wrapped around the building outside just to get in to see them (apparently I'm not the only one drawn to her!).

That reception was the only time Doc ever met her, and it was also the last time we saw each other. Life moved on. The internet wasn't around yet, and we lost track of each other.

A few times in the past fifteen years I did search for Darla. Once, I found an outdated reference to her husband in a newspaper, but otherwise, nothing.

Then a few weeks ago Doc called me one day.

"You'll never guess who I just ran into" he said.
"Then you'd better just tell me", I replied.

How she recognized him, and how he actually remembered her name without being told, after ALL THESE YEARS is astonishing. He walked into the room she was in, her back was to him, but when she heard him say his name (and we have a pretty common last name) she turned around. "I know you! You're Blue's husband!" she said.

And that's how I reconnected with my amazing friend after 18 years. Yesterday we met for lunch. Only we almost didn't meet because I went to the wrong restaurant and sat there waiting for a good 15 minutes before I noticed that I was at Zuppa's and not Rumbi's (!) I RAN over to Rumbi's, and the second I walked in, there she was, and we were hugging and it was a joyful moment.

I couldn't have imagined how very beautiful she'd be. She was light and brightness and pretty at twenty-one. Now, at forty-one, she is simply glorious. She has that deep-beauty that just can't be contained within herself. I don't feel quite as moth-like today as in years past (perhaps I've evolved into a butterfly), but I could still hardly get enough of her.

Neither of us think things happen coincidentally. I'm sure this chance meeting was a tender mercy of the Lord in my life. I am always humbled by his watchfulness over me.

Grateful for:
1) Kindred spirits
2) People who are strong in areas where I am weak. I watch their example and let myself be inspired as I try to become more like them.
3) How beautiful life is (even in those difficult times it doesn't seem like it.)