Uhm, wow. Well, okay. My first kiss was pretty much ridiculous, but I’ve heard that most other people can say the same thing. His name was Donnie and it happened inside a church. (I’m a pastor’s kid. I pretty much lived in a church when I was a young teen. What did you expect?) It’s nothing remotely to talk about, except to say I could have chosen much MUCH better.
My first love is a whole other story. Tim. Yes, one of the 4 Tims that I dated. *sigh* I don’t even like the name Tim. Seriously.
He made me laugh. I mean, right out loud from the tips of your toes type of laughter! And usually it was about absolutely nothing. The way he “played drums” on the steering wheel of his Ford Escort while we drove down back country roads with windows open, his class ring making a big “thump, thump” sound to, “John Deere Green” as we sang at the tops of our lungs. Playing tag in the rain, laughing so hard, falling and slipping in the mud, and there literally being nothing going on but a great amount of fun that could have been had even if parents were present. The innocence and beauty of it all – that is the stuff a true first love story is made of.
The greatest thing about my first love is that he taught me a lot about God. Honestly, we prayed together. I mean, him on his knees, a Bible between us, holding hands, praying. I was going through some fairly yucky stuff at the time, and while I didn’t have the guts to tell him most of the reality of it, he could tell by the way even a hug made me shrink away. I’ll never forget the words, “God, please give her strength to get through whatever is facing her.”
I don’t know where he is anymore. I know almost nothing about him, actually. But, I still utter those words of prayer for his life, from time to time.