Happy Feast Day of Saint Valentine!

I will never forget entering the fellowship hall of church one day expecting it to be like any other day.

Today is the feast day of the Martyr Saint Valentine. If I was concerned with other content outside of that directly affecting music, I would discuss the cultural phenomenon of remembering a 3rd-century saint’s name and date while simultaneously being wrapped in a consumer lust. YET, in no way is that what I wish to talk about.

I want to tell you a story. A story that is one, if not the, most important of my life. It is also one in which I purposefully leave out details with those friends of mine who are not as close to me as others. In fact, how good of a friend you are to me is usually pretty directly related to this story.

Remember when you were a teenager? Experiences are so vivid in the teenage years aren’t they? If you were a Christian, you may remember how even with the struggles and pitfalls of that age, that God’s work affected you directly. All connections at that age tend to be somewhat exaggerated, and sometimes because of immaturity (or maybe the opposite), the connection with God seems so undeniable. Another reason for this may simply be that because teenagers are so hopelessly self-centered, that they can’t see a world in which God does not revolve around them. Who knows? But I digress!

I will never forget entering the fellowship hall of church one day expecting it to be like any other day. Yet, (and this is another part I tend to leave out) something moved me. I felt some sort of difference, as though my world was changing, but I didn’t understand it. I had been brought up in a family that valued Southern-Christian logic and emotional constraint, and to give some premonition like this any thought would be silly.

I came in and sat down at a table, and was pleased to see this pretty girl across the way. I had seen her before, but had only had glancing run-ins with her. I remember falling in love right then and there. It was the way she talked.

Of course I could continue on and on with romantic dribble, but I wanted to let you know my dear readers, that I consider you all friends. Therefore, instead of telling that my wife Hilary and I “met at church,” I’ll tell you the real reason…

We met at Byzantine Chant class.

Love you Hil,

David