“Well, kind of like the story of Isaac and Rebecca, when I first meet my future wife, I’ll just know.”
As I read these words on my message inbox, I gulped. The guy at the other end of this exchange was a handsome pastor in training with theological insight to rival Billy Graham’s. A 2016 Boaz if you will. And this is what he wrote me a few weeks before we were supposed to meet for the first time.
The weight of his sentence made my stomach clench into a knot because, buddy, I’m no Rebecca.
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