The Story of Us. Part One.

*The Disclaimer

September 1997

It was a Sunday night, early in my Sophomore Days. My head was likely filled with things like "Far and Away," turning 16, a certain Senior boy, finding my way around a new campus, wading through Mrs. Metcalf's World History, the Beginning of the End of French, piano (always), and more youth activities and trips and bible studies than I would even try to remember. I sat in my Alto seat in rehearsal - facing the Church Music Office - and remember Johnny, our youth minister, addressing us pre-practice. Which by the way, wasn't much. He introduced a guy over in the "Guy's" section (as if I was focused outside of myself enough to know which section that would be) as a Virginian coming to our enormous youth group. New Faces were normal, strange teenagers came in and out of the flow of Travis, but I was struck by a couple of things. He had long hair. He wore beach bum clothes. And he was going to play bass in the Youth Praise Band. And then, to my utter disgust, he stood up, and proudly waved around the room as if we (I) was thinking, "Oh good. He's here!"

I know now that it was sheer insecurity, but I was most put off my his joining our band. I was the only Sophomore in the band, a post that I first "humbly" declined because, I told Jason, I wasn't old enough. And then quickly took it back. Also, I was so unsure of what to do with a sheet of paper that listed letter names rather than notes (I remember asking my Dad, at his bedside in the middle of the night, how to play from a lead sheet). I had been given permission to play the bass part when all else failed...the single notes down in the depths of the bass cleft. WAY easier than a Level 2 piano curriculum, much less the new system of music I had yet to learn.

Fast forward through choir (you can picture it...we had probably rehearsed some Point of Grace, Steven Curtis...I also remember learning an arrangement of "All in All," complete with oboe accompaniment, and a song called "Nobody Thrills My Heart Like Jesus."), and our Sunday Praise Band rehearsal was about to begin. I was fooling around on the keyboard, probably trying to figure out what to play other than the bass line. I remember he walked in the Old Backstage Room, down the long aisle, and it came to a point where it was clear that I was the only bandmember whom he'd not met. So - I called out.

"I haven't met you yet. I'm Katie."

He jumped up onto the stage, stuck out a hand.

"Mike."

"So," said my preppy, confident self. "You a Freshman? Sophomore?..."

"Junior. At Paschal."

And there we were. I often think back to this evening, which is still so clear in my mind, and wonder what God was thinking as He watched this meeting take place.

(I have to break out the pictures if I'm going to do this right... Here is a picture of Mike around the time we first met. This is one of my all-time favorites of him because you can tell he is really laughing... And his belly laugh is seriously charming.)