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A White Rose, a Candle, and an Ogre?

By Julie Ferwerda

CBN.com – What are the chances of me finding a quality Christian guy at my age? I have enough baggage for an airport luggage carousel -- divorced, two kids, and a strained relationship with my ex. I'll probably just have to take the first "good enough" thing that comes along that will take me.

That's what I believed until the night I met Jackie.

The Hope
October 1997

I met Jackie during a business meeting for a Christian crisis pregnancy center a few months after my divorce. A striking red-head with gorgeous green eyes, Jackie had a genuine love for God. We hit it off right away.

After the meeting, she invited me to stay around to get acquainted. I discovered that she too had been through a difficult divorce, but she recounted to me how God had given her an amazing second chance at finding His first choice of a mate.

Her beautiful unfolding drama was one of the most romantic love stories I'd ever heard-well, next to Shrek, that is. You know -- the movie about the big green ogre (Shrek) who rescues the beautiful princess just before she is coerced into marrying the self-absorbed, vain, and shallow Lord Farquaad. After the rescue mission and a magical kiss, an ancient curse is broken and the beautiful princess turns into an ogre (sorry if I just ruined the plot for you), making her a perfect match for Shrek. Like a fairytale, Jackie's story seemed too good to be true.

Was it possible? Was God trying to offer me hope through this woman about my future? In light of my current divorced situation, it didn't seem like a chance meeting. Her account stirred something in my soul that longed for my own story -- the kind riveted with miracles where you know without a doubt that God did it. If God gave Jackie a second chance, He could do the same for me. After that night, I began to believe that God would indeed redeem my broken life and bring me a new chance at authentic godly love. I just hoped Mr. Right wasn't a big green ogre with enough ear wax to make his nightly dinner candle.

The Sign
December 1997

A couple of months later, on a cold December night, doubts were setting in again. It hit right about the time of a romantic candlelight wedding of one of my co-workers -- single-panic. I wanted so much to have some assurance that God did indeed have a plan of redemption for my life, just like He did for Jackie's. I had so many dreams of a healthy loving marriage and a family atmosphere for raising my two young daughters. The thought of being alone for the rest of my life tempted me to take matters into my own hands and to take the best option I could find.

Prospects weren't too good. The singles scene in our sparsely populated area was limited. Oh, there were plenty of options-if you could get excited about guys like Bruno, the burly tattooed biker down at the local bar, or Cowboy Clyde who crowed "Achy Breaky Heart" from his pickup at the county fair trying to attract a potential date, or even Homer who flashed his pearly white dentures as he shuffled by in the supermarket. No wonder so many people got divorced after second marriages!

Trying to put on my best front that night at the wedding for the rest of my happy, content, not lonely, and married co-workers (it always seems that way when you are single) that night of the wedding, I mingled half-heartedly. They were all checking out available options for me in the reception hall of the lavishly decked out hotel when we heard squeals of delight coming from somewhere by the pool.

"It's time for the bride to toss her bouquet! Julie, you should get over there!" My well-meaning friends excitedly pushed me along.

The bride was getting ready for that traditional superstitious practice where she throws her bouquet to the throngs of pining desperados, promising the girl who catches it to be the next bride.

I may be desperate, but I'm certainly not superstitious. I pointedly stepped back at least fifteen feet from the swarming group, blending back into the crowd of onlookers. The bride turned around and tossed the bouquet over her shoulder.

Looking around the room at the lavish Christmas decorations, trying to appear disinterested, I nearly missed all the commotion. Out of the corner of my eye I saw it all in a split second. Several girls jumped up to catch the bouquet at the same time, much like a jump ball at center court in a basketball game (and about as graceful too). As they did, the bouquet was jolted back up into the air a second time. A single white rose tore away from the rest of the flowers, flew in a high arc away from the crowd, and landed perfectly right-side-up into my clasped hands. On cue, the crowd let out a few gasps of surprise about the "mysterious coincidence." A few even asked me, over chuckles, how that could have happened.

Some might have said it was chance or maybe even a strange coincidence, but in my heart, I knew the truth. It was too exact and intentional to be an accident. Because of the context of the bridal bouquet and wedding, I suspected it meant that indeed God did have a plan of redemption for my life. I believed He would bring someone really special into my life again one day if I waited for His lead. Here was yet the second obvious assurance that could someday be a part of my own romantic adventure. The prospects were both exciting and agonizing, knowing how much patience would be required to wait for God's leading in my romantic future.

I asked God for a special request that day to help me not miss His divine leading as I was prone to do: If the white rose did mean that He was going to bless me with a husband, I wanted clear road signs along the way -- even if He had to paste them to my eyelids!

Lord, I believe You are telling me You have a special man picked out for my future. I am going to need Your help to be patient! When the time comes and You bring him into my life, please give me a sign by having him present me with a white rose so I will know it is Your leading and not my own impatient heart.

Believing God would answer my request, I took an oath of silence never to tell anyone about the white rose request until after the man of the future asked me to be his wife. It was God's and my little secret, and I could only imagine that it was going to be both exciting and difficult to keep.

The Man
December 1998

Steve Ferwerda and I were just friends. We had begun writing letters through email in October, and only recently had just met half-way between our homes in Denver and central Wyoming for our first friendly dinner get-together. He had many (hopeful) friends who were girls littered all over the region, so his friendship with me was nothing to get excited about, romantically speaking.

At thirty-three and never-been-married, Steve was quite a catch for any Christian gal. He didn't seem too impatient to end his single streak either. He was holding out all these years for "the one," and he wasn't about to make a mistake now. Unlike other single men I had met, Steve's strong faith, active prayer life, and high standards of moral purity were refreshing to me. On top of that, he was really handsome, nice to his mother, and he even laughed at my jokes (no one ever gets my jokes). Steve was definitely the kind of guy I could imagine spending the rest of my life with. His influence in my life certainly helped me to set my standards for a mate much higher than they were before. He also convinced me that it was possible to find another quality man out there with the same kind of standards.

Over Christmas vacation, I lured Steve with Breyer's® Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream -- his favorite -- to my parent's home, since his parent's lived out of the country. After polishing off his second bowl one evening, he broke the big news to me.

"Hey, Julie…before I forget…did I tell you about the 'Purity Test' that I took at work the other day?" When I looked at him quizzically, he continued to tell me about a test that was given by his co-workers to determine a person's level of purity. A score of one would classify as a saint and a one hundred would be someone who had really experienced it all. Questions about every compromising behavior you could think of -- smoking, drinking, cussing, pre-marital sex, pornography, drugs, affairs, cheating, lying, gambling -- you name it, it was on there.

"So what did you get?"

"Uhh…well…," he shifted uncomfortably.

"You brought it up! Come on! Whadya' get? I won't tell anyone."

"All right. I'll tell what I scored if you promise not to laugh ... I got a four."

I looked at him skeptically, knowing how impossible that kind of score was to maintain-especially for a man his age. Your average Christian was lucky to score under fifty. Unfortunately with my curious and rebellious nature getting the best of me at different times in my life, I would have probably scored even higher than fifty. I did the next obvious thing I could think of doing; I laughed at him.

"Hey, you're not supposed to laugh."

"I never promised that I wouldn't!"

"Anyhow…I guess you've figured out by now that I'm a virgin…"

The Roses
January 1999

Clutching the pink bag that Steve had given me for an early Valentine's gift, I waited to open it until I boarded my plane, like he instructed. I was traveling through Denver Airport, and he had driven out to meet me for dinner that late January evening. He looked a little conspicuous carrying a big pink bag through the airport, but he didn't seem to notice the laughter and pointing in his direction.

Finally when he left me at my gate, he placed it in my eager hands.

"I got you a little something for Valentine's day, since I probably won't see you before then."
"That was sweet. Does it bite?"

"Only at high altitudes."

"I guess I'll have to give it to the co-pilot to open for me, huh?"

We said our goodbye's with a friendly hug, and I boarded the little prop plane that would take me to my final destination.

Sitting in the airplane, I began to unload the goods. Starting at the top I pulled out a deck of cards, a little book he had jokingly given me to help interpret my bizarre dreams, some chocolate candy, a cassette tape (must be a clearance item) of songs by one of his favorite Christian artists, a Valentine's Day card, and some Grandma's cookies. After emptying out all big stuff, I looked inside to see if I missed anything...wait, what's this?! Daisies taken off their stems and some petals…rose petals. The bottom of the bag was covered in white rose petals!

My White Rose
June 1999

"Dear Julie…" Through blurry tears I read the words that I had pieced together one by one during a silly scavenger hunt that Steve had arranged for me that early summer evening.

"God has blessed me richly in my first thirty-three years and made my life a beautiful jigsaw puzzle. It's missing a piece though, and that piece is…you. I love you. Will you marry me?"

I couldn't believe it! Steve Ferwerda -- the guy who was one in a million -- wanted to spend his life with me! God had kept him waiting all those years just for someone like me, baggage and all! That night so long ago at the wedding, when I first received God's assurance, I had asked for a white rose. I fully expected to get a white rose from the man, but I never imagined that the white rose would also be the man.

God's best for me was more than I ever dreamed possible -- better than any fairytale. When I think of all the "Lord Farquaad's" I could have settled for, I am amazed at what God had in store for me. God's plans for me were bigger and better than anything I could have done for myself. In His perfectly redeeming way that only He can do, He took the baggage from my life and my past, and rearranged it into my own authentic love story. Just like He did for Jackie. In God's opinion, I wasn't worth "good enough"; I was worth His best.

Now that's worth celebrating. I think I hear my husband lighting the dinner candles this very moment.

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