I’ve never really thought about my “dream proposal” either. 

Sure, I’ve gone on YouTube and watched countless videos of AMAZING proposals; crowds of family and friends lip-syncing the couple’s favorite song as the man escorts his soon-to-be fiancé through a candlelit garden at sunset. I’ve been pretty fortunate to witness some great proposals as well, but I’ve never really given much thought to what my own might look like.

I haven’t the slightest idea what kind of ring I’d want.

Of course, I’ve admired engagement rings on other women and who doesn’t skim through the Jared or Kay’s Jewelers catalogues come Christmas time? Don’t get me wrong, I love some quality bling as much as the next gal but I don’t have the cut, color and clarity picked out awaiting my future husband’s checkbook.

Perhaps it the fact that others my age are tying the knot or maybe because marriage, child birth and death are the only major milestones I have yet to cross off my list. But the more I prayed about it and asked God why this desire was so strong, the answer hit me like a ton of bricks.

It wasn’t the ring, the dress, the tearful vows or the romantic proposal. It was the symbolism of it all.

I can’t count the number of times I’ve noticed a woman’s wedding ring and thought to myself, “Wow, lucky her.” Not lucky because of the size of her ring but lucky for the simple fact that she has one. Lucky because that ring symbolizes that she is different. Set apart. Chosen.

Being around women with wedding rings makes me hold my head higher, walk straighter and speak clearer. I want to hang around them. I want to listen to how they talk, what they say, how they think. I mean, why not? Obviously they’ve done something right. These women are so special that a man is so in love with her he can’t picture his life without her. 

. I wanted to feel set apart. I wanted to feel special, chosen, and unique. I wanted other people to be able to look at me and say, “Wow, lucky her.” Not lucky because of the size of my ring, but lucky simply because I have one.

I wanted that feeling so bad that I engaged in meaningless relationships and would change everything about myself on the hopes that whoever I was in that relationship would be deemed special enough.

Special enough to be called ‘lucky.’

Special enough to be chosen.

Then I met this man. A man who loves me for exactly who I am. Yes, I had to change some things for Him but these were changes for my good. Rather than getting down on one knee and asking for my hand, this man got on a cross and asked for my sins. This man chose me, set me apart, and even took the time to write my ending before my beginning. He knows my thoughts before I think them and spending time with Him is pure heaven.

Now when I walk straighter and with my head held high…now when I speak clearer, it has nothing to do with who is around me. But it has everything to do with who lives in me.

With who loves me.

With who choose me.

With who proposed to me, on a cross, long before I was even a twinkle in my father’s eye.

I dare you to find a better love story than that.

So yes, I still have the desire to get married and I know that in due time; in His time, I will. But until then I will rest content in knowing that I am one of the luckiest girls in the world.



Photo Credit: A Well Traveled Woman