"Your are altogether beautiful, my love; there is no flaw in you" (SOS. 4:7, ESV).
Shortly after I arrived in Pineville, Kentucky, to attend Clear Creek Baptist Bible College, I met a lovely young woman. She was bright and beautiful, charming and funny. She had a joyful spirit that radiated out of her. Whenever she entered a room, the air crackled with energy. Her passion for life and the Lord were contagious. She was just fun to be around.
And then it happened. It wasn't planned or intentional. Looking back on it, I still can't pinpoint when the shift occurred. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me back up.
Most men (and probably women) have a standard by which they measure the opposite sex. For some it is their first crush, a high school sweetheart, or some celebrity. They measure the attractiveness of their potential mate against an idealized version of that person. It often sounds like this: they're too tall or too short, too skinny or too fat, too hairy or too bald, or they have the wrong colored hair or eyes, etc.
I, too, had an ideal mate in mind, the person I thought would make me happy. But then it happened. It occurred to me on the drive back to Pineville one weekend. There had been a revolution in my heart, and woman who had at one time been my standard was dethroned. I came to realize that I had begin measuring the opposite sex by a brand new standard. The change happened so subtly that the realization shocked me.
In that instant, I realized that I had been looking for a woman with her character, beauty, passion, joy and dedication. I wanted a woman who loved the Lord, and wanted to devote her life to serving him, just like her. I wanted a woman that motivated me to be a better person, just like her. I wanted a woman who studied and believed the Word of God, just like her. She had become the standard.
The problem with ideals is that we rarely believe we can obtain them. I hoped I could meet a girl just like her, because I didn't think I stood a chance with her. Losing her friendship was not a risk I was willing to take. If I asked her out, and she said no, I doubted that our friendship would endure.
But my feelings for her continued to grow in spite of my fear. Finally, I sought advise from a pastor I trusted. He told me, "Run it up the flagpole, and see who salutes!" In other words, I needed to find out if she felt the same way. So I took the plunge, I told her how I felt, and asked if she would like to go study (the Bible) with me. Things grew from there.
It didn't take me long to realize that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her so I asked her to marry me. First in the prayer chapel, and then during a revival service on campus. And to my amazement she said yes (both times). If you haven't figured it out by now ( then your pretty slow), that wonderful woman is my wife, Delia.
We entered into holy matrimony, in the presence of the Lord and several witnesses, on June 5, 1999. When the doors opened, I remember thinking I was going to burst with excitement. She began marching toward me, dressed in white, and more beautiful than anything I could imagine. My heart pounded in my chest. She was about to be mine, and I would be hers, for the rest of our lives.
Eleven years have passed since that afternoon when we pledged our lives and our love to each other. There have been several changes in our lives. We have moved a few times. We found a place to serve the Lord. We have been blessed with two daughters, one of which we lost. We have cried some. We have laughed a lot. But one thing hasn't changed: she still my ideal woman. She still makes me want to be a better man. She still loves the Lord, and wants to serve him with her whole heart. She is still the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.
When you say, "eleven years," it sounds like a long time, but looking back they passed by like mere moments. I have been richly blessed to have the opportunity to love and be loved by, Delia. I pray that the Lord will give us many more years together. And I pray that they will be even sweeter than the years we've had.
Today marks Delia's and my 13th anniversary. It doesn't feel like it should be that long. They have passed way too quickly. We're over half way to our 25th anniversary. So far it has been an amazing adventure. I'm grateful she still loves me in spite of my pride and selfishness. I like what Andrew Peterson says in his song, "Dancing in the Mine Fields,": 
