our love story - part 3

The drive to the airport was painful. I kept sunglasses on to hide the tears. I rode in the back with my head against the window most of the time. I didn’t even care if I about knocked my brains out as he hit pot hole after pot hole. I just wanted to be back in the village. With him. With the people that had stolen my heart. Anywhere but in that van. Anywhere. We left crazy early because the people I was with are those that like to be at the airport for a whole day before their flight leaves. Those kinds of people grate on my nerves, especially when I wanted to spend more time with George. We stopped along the way because even THEY could see that we were just way too early. We ate lunch on the shore of Lake Victoria and got to spend even more time together that left me wishing we hadn’t. It was just another memory that I would carry with me. I bet you’re thinking, “geez, did you or did you NOT want to spend more time with the man?” I’d be saying that, too. But I’m just weird like that.

When we got to the airport, I think I stopped breathing. I had luggage filled with things to carry back to sell. I had a promise from a man that I hardly knew that if I said yes, that he would be the husband I’d always prayed for. I had a ring in my carry on that I couldn’t look at. All I could cling to was that George told me to GO and sell everything I owned and come back to serve with him. Reminded me of Someone else I knew – Jesus.

As we entered the area where we had to go inside and where they could go no further, my heart got ripped right out of my chest. I couldn’t understand why I had to leave. I couldn’t understand why he couldn’t come with me. I couldn’t understand why we had to say “goodbye”. Crushed is an understatement. I watched him as he walked away, and he never looked back. That made me cry even more. I knew he was broken but I just wanted to see that smile one more time.

When I landed in Detroit, I quickly found that my cell phone service had been disconnected. Oh, the joys of forgetting to pay your bills while you’re in another country. I made my way to a pay phone and made a call to my sister. She said George had already contacted her to find out if I was home. She paid my bill online and the first call I got was from him. I won’t ever forget his first words to me from half a world away. He said, “Hello, Sweetheart.” I melted. Right there in the Detroit airport. We talked a little and then I found my way to the hotel there in the airport. I was broken. Nothing about America made me feel comfortable anymore. I was in some fancy hotel that I had mistakenly thought my ex-boyfriend had paid for (come to find out, I was the one that had to foot the bill). Everything was expensive. Even a glass of ice. Nothing on TV was worth watching. I felt trapped in luxury for 3 days and 2 nights. I looked at pictures from the trip. I laughed. I cried. I missed Uganda. I missed George. I missed everything about the last 3 weeks. I even missed the people I went with because if it weren’t for their constant whining, complaining, and gloating about what they were going to do to change Uganda, I wouldn’t have distanced myself which brought me closer to what He had meant for me to accomplish during my trip.

And remember the little blue box? Yeah, well, it was burning a hole in my bag. I wanted to look at it but every single time I'd go to unzip the side of my carry on, it was as if I could feel God's eyes peering down upon me. At one point, I was like, "Look, don't you have something else to be taking care of? Why do you ALWAYS have to be looking at me?" Bahahahaha. I'm not even joking. So I devised a plan. I would just work on him until he agreed to let me see it. So when he called again, I told him that eventually I'd say yes, so I saw no big deal in looking at the ring. He didn't budge. It was midnight in Uganda, so he went to bed but that ring wouldn't leave me alone. It was only mid-afternoon for me so I kept trying to work on my plan :) When I talked to him again, I was like, "here's the deal. Since I'm in NO position to say yes, can the ring just be a promise ring? Because I PROMISE that I will say yes one day, I just can't right now." I rattled on a little and he finally agreed. I froze. Then I was like, "HELLO. All that work! No, I gotta get over to that bag!!!" I unzipped it, pulled out the box, untied the bow and opened the box. I was blown away!

On top of the ring was a piece of paper folded into. It said, "Christie Marie Cotney, Marry Me en Come Home". As if my heart hadn't melted enough already, there it went again. Right there on the side of the bed in that fancy hotel room. And then I saw the ring. While I didn't care much for gold, the ring was PERFECT. I noticed ALL the details. The heart. The way the other details formed to make another heart. The bigger stone. The 3 smaller stones that made up some little flower shape. The way it wasn't a "typical" engagement ring. It. Was. Perfect. And the most perfect part was that it was from him. Oh, yeah, I was falling in love.

Stay tuned for the rest of our story...