๐Ž๐ง ๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐„๐ฏ๐ž ๐จ๐Ÿ ๐Ž๐ฎ๐ซ ๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿ“๐ญ๐ก ๐€๐ง๐ง๐ข๐ฏ๐ž๐ซ๐ฌ๐š๐ซ๐ฒ: | Beverly Carroll

๐Ž๐ง ๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐„๐ฏ๐ž ๐จ๐Ÿ ๐Ž๐ฎ๐ซ ๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿ“๐ญ๐ก ๐€๐ง๐ง๐ข๐ฏ๐ž๐ซ๐ฌ๐š๐ซ๐ฒ:

๐ด ๐‘…๐‘’๐‘ก๐‘Ÿ๐‘œ๐‘ ๐‘๐‘’๐‘๐‘ก๐‘–๐‘ฃ๐‘’

I have had two great loves in my life, and both their names start with the letter J. The first J is my Savior and preeminent Love. The second J was my fairytale and the only boy I ever loved.

๐ฝ๐‘’๐‘ ๐‘ข๐‘  ๐‘Ž๐‘›๐‘‘ ๐ฝ๐‘–๐‘š๐‘š๐‘ฆ. I simply cannot imagine what would have become of me without them.

As a little girl, I was introduced to Jesus, and, enthralled by the stories I was told of Him, longed to know more. I wanted to belong to Him, like the children gathered around Him in pictures displayed on flannel boards in Sunday school. He seemed kind. He cared for children. He healed sick people. He fed the hungry.

As much as a five-year-old ๐‘๐‘Ž๐‘› love Jesus, I did.

From the moment I first met Jimmy, I knew I wanted to be his girl. He was always the only one for me. I couldnโ€™t imagine loving anyone else, and I never did. What began with starry-eyed puppy love literally altered the course of my life.

As much as a thirteen-year-old ๐‘๐‘Ž๐‘› love a boy, I did.

Jimmy told me he loved me for the very first time on Valentineโ€™s Day. We had attended a banquet at church. I remember it like it was yesterday: Me, all dressed up in a red wool suit with a corsage strapped to my wrist, and Jimmy, decked out in a black jacket and silk tie. Illuminated by the headlights of his parentsโ€™ car, he walked me to the door, kissed me goodnight, and whispered his love. I had loved him long before that night, and Iโ€™ve loved him ever since.

There were the inevitable fights, breakups, and reunions throughout high school. While others were choosing colleges and planning their futures, I was just waiting to see where Jimmy would go, because I fully intended to follow him there. He had felt called to ministry from a young age. I had simply felt called to him.

There were other contenders for Jimmyโ€™s heart along the way, but he ultimately chose me. I marveled at that choice, never once taking for granted that I got to be the one to stand in his sunshine for a lifetime. Being his girl was, to me, real life evidence that dreams come true. I felt like Iโ€™d won the lottery, and that feeling never went away.

Jimmy proposed to me on Valentineโ€™s Day, eight years to the day after he had first declared his love. Unbeknownst to me, he had planned an extravagant dinner, for which my mom bought me a lovely dress, but as best laid plans often do, they went awry. A heavy snowstorm foiled our evening, so he surprised me, proposing on bended knee, in the same bedroom where I had dreamed and cried and wished and prayed, for years, for just such an outcome.

Jimmy was away at school during our engagement, so I mailed him love letters every week. These were actual lettersโ€”the kind that require stampsโ€”the kind written on scented stationary with pastel flowers and matching stickers.

I always signed them the same way, with my future married name. Iโ€™d been scribbling it in notebooks and journals for years by then, anyway. Each included a countdown to the big day:

๐ต๐‘’๐‘ฃ๐‘’๐‘Ÿ๐‘™๐‘ฆ ๐ถ๐‘Ž๐‘Ÿ๐‘Ÿ๐‘œ๐‘™๐‘™,
in four months, ten days.

๐ต๐‘’๐‘ฃ๐‘’๐‘Ÿ๐‘™๐‘ฆ ๐ถ๐‘Ž๐‘Ÿ๐‘Ÿ๐‘œ๐‘™๐‘™,
in three months, six days, and so on.

I loved him beyond my ability to adequately articulate. Blessed (or afflicted) with an enormous capacity for love, I love deeply, with abandon and without restraint. To love that way is simply part of who I am. In the words of Jane Austen, โ€œI have no notion of loving people by halves, it is not in my nature.โ€ It really isnโ€™t. Whether it began with Jimmy or not, I canโ€™t say for sure; I just know this, I can scarcely remember a time when I did not love him.

Following the proposal were six of the longest months of my life, up to that point. Because he was finishing college, Jimmy and I had already lived in separate states for over a year, so the thought of actually living with him left me positively giddy.

Our wedding day, though, seemed an eternity away. With each love letter I signed with a flourish, sealed with a kiss, and dropped in the mail, I dreamed of how wonderful it would be to actually be together, every day, in the same state, under the same roof.

I fretted frequently as our wedding date approached. I worried the rapture would take place. I worried the ozone layer would disappear completely and burn us to a crisp. I worried I might get chicken pox. (Mama never could remember if I had actually had it. My recent case of shingles finally solved the mystery.) Whatever the potential catastrophe or existential crisis, I worried about it.

We are encouraged in Scripture to โ€œtake no thought of tomorrow.โ€ Well, thatโ€™s ๐‘Ž๐‘™๐‘™ I did: We were headed into hurricane season. Was that going to be a problem? (The wedding was at the end of August, after all, and, thirty-five years earlier, a hurricane had taken the roof off my mamaโ€™s high school.) I had a meltdown over nuclear meltdowns. (Chernobyl happened two months after Jimmyโ€™s proposal, and we lived less than an hour away from North Carolinaโ€™s very own nuclear reactor.) I worried Halleyโ€™s comet might actually come a little too close. (It was due to make its closest approach to Earth in at least 75 years and was actually being referred to by many as the โ€œMessenger of the End of the World.โ€)

๐ผ๐‘ก ๐‘Ž๐‘™๐‘™ ๐‘ ๐‘’๐‘’๐‘š๐‘’๐‘‘ ๐‘ž๐‘ข๐‘–๐‘ก๐‘’ ๐‘ก๐‘’๐‘›๐‘ข๐‘œ๐‘ข๐‘  ๐‘“๐‘œ๐‘Ÿ ๐‘Ž ๐‘”๐‘–๐‘Ÿ๐‘™ ๐‘คโ„Ž๐‘œ โ„Ž๐‘Ž๐‘‘ ๐‘œ๐‘›๐‘™๐‘ฆ ๐‘’๐‘ฃ๐‘’๐‘Ÿ ๐‘ค๐‘Ž๐‘›๐‘ก๐‘’๐‘‘ ๐‘œ๐‘›๐‘’ ๐‘กโ„Ž๐‘–๐‘›๐‘”.

When our day finally arrived, it felt like a dream. It sounds trite, I know, but when I tell you I felt like the luckiest girl in the whole world, I did! And, on that day, as we said our vows and promised each other forever, I could not conceive of loving him more than I did at that very moment.

๐ผ โ„Ž๐‘Ž๐‘‘ ๐‘›๐‘œ ๐‘–๐‘‘๐‘’๐‘Ž.

We spent thirty-one years keeping that promise. We entered into covenant, vowing love and fidelity no matter what, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part.

At twenty-one, thereโ€™s no way we could have anticipated all that life would hold. We could not have known, then, that there would be equal parts joy and pain, laughter and tears, struggle and ease. We experienced every possibility listed in those vows, but never once did we falter in our devotion. Remember that love and cherish part? We did that in spades. We loved fervently, fiercely, and freely.

We ๐‘™๐‘–๐‘ฃ๐‘’๐‘‘ love.

I often describe our life as a fairytale, and it was, but even fairytales are not without challenges. Life for the Carrolls was not always easy. There were storms to weather, challenges to overcome, and trials to endure. There were questions with no answers, and problems with no solutions. But I can tell you this: God was faithful.

Ours was a love grown in trials and cemented in adversity. It was fortified in darkness and watered in tears. Calamity and misfortune didnโ€™t chip away at it. They deepened it. We were co-conspirators, Jimmy and I, choosing defiant joy when hardship came knocking. There was grace galore under duress and celebration aplenty in the rests and the respites.

๐ด๐‘›๐‘‘ ๐‘™๐‘Ž๐‘ข๐‘”โ„Ž๐‘ก๐‘’๐‘Ÿ. There was ๐‘Ž๐‘™๐‘ค๐‘Ž๐‘ฆ๐‘  laughter.

What we had was more than just a marriage. It was Holy Matrimony, graced and gifted by the One we first pledged our lives to as teens. Our vows were subject to an even greater vow, you see. That was the key. Our foundation was built on more than just a promise to each other. We had nothing worthy to offer, apart from God, but ๐‘ค๐‘–๐‘กโ„Ž Him? Well, He made it all possible. The One who instituted marriage gave us one that exceeded our dreamsโ€”one for the storybooksโ€”a bonafide fairytale.

I always knew that I would choose Jimmy again and again, but that realization still struck throughout the years with a delight that remained undiminished by the passage of time. Was our marriage perfect? No. We were fallible, imperfect people, inherently selfish and naturally inclined to insist upon our own way. Left to our own devices, we might never have made it. Left to our own devices, we might have lived with each other, without loving each other. But my first Love saved us from all that.

Jesus had more in mind for us than just a life of simply coexisting. He ordained more for us than that. He helped us, caused us, enabled us to love each other the way He intended. We were leading people, after all. God had long since called Jimmy to pastor, and one cannot dispense what one does not possess. If Jimmy was to lead authentically and well, if his message was to be, โ€œFollow me as I follow Christ,โ€ then it had to be real, and it was.

Jimmy and I often taught together on marriage. We relished our relationship, but also understood that what we had was exceedingly rare. Nevertheless, we dreamed of others experiencing the same joy for themselves that had been ours, so we taught what we had learned.

We wanted them to know:
ยท That life is unpredictable, but God is constant.
ยท That tough times produce fertile soil for love to grow.
ยท That time passes, but love remains.
ยท That the most priceless things in life have no monetary value. They cannot be calculated or tabulated, they can only be enjoyed.
ยท That small bank accounts, hand-me-down furniture, and dishes that donโ€™t match make for great memories.

We wanted them to know the type of love that perseveres through loss, heartache, and sickness. We wanted for them the same joy that had characterized our unionโ€”delicious joyโ€”that makes hearts overflow. The kind of joy that erupts into giggles ๐‘œ๐‘Ÿ tears. We wanted them to know how wonderful it can be.

We taught them practical things, too, like:
ยท Always choose high-thread-count sheetsโ€”They are worth the extra cost.
ยท Take time to notice.
ยท Be attentive, because familiarity obscures.
ยท Be nice to each other.
ยท Say, โ€œThank you.โ€ โ€œPlease.โ€ โ€œIโ€™m sorry.โ€ โ€œForgive me.โ€
ยท Articulate your love.
ยท Demonstrate your devotion.
ยท Affirm each other, especially in front of others.
ยท Go on dates.
ยท Continue to hold handsโ€”Itโ€™s highly underrated.
ยท Laugh together.
ยท Flirt with each other.
ยท Really talk, and really listen.
ยท Compromise. Donโ€™t be selfish.
ยท Pray for each other.
ยท Take lots of pictures together.
ยท Make your home a refuge.
ยท Write love notes.
ยท Kiss often.
ยท Live within your means.
ยท Be spontaneous.
ยท Donโ€™t forget the little things.
ยท ๐‘€๐‘Ž๐‘˜๐‘’ ๐‘š๐‘’๐‘š๐‘œ๐‘Ÿ๐‘–๐‘’๐‘ .

There is so much more we could have told them, but we understood that some of it, they would simply need to figure out on their own. These revelations, after all, were decades in the making. We, the undeserving beneficiaries of Godโ€™s grace, never took for granted just how blessed we were to have learned them.

We loved teaching on marriage because we loved being married. We reveled in it. I was โ€œhis girl,โ€ and he was โ€œmy love.โ€ We cherished those titles.

I could not have known, during the many times we taught together, just how grateful I would be that we had actually done the things we emphasized. Seismic losses have a way of crystallizing what really matters, and our case is no different. Consequently, I donโ€™t take for granted a moment of the love we lived.

For, now, those titles of endearment adorn my sweet Jimmyโ€™s grave marker. The designations that brought us such joy are now memorialized in bronze, a heartbreaking but hallowed testament to one blessed coupleโ€™s enduring love.

We loved big and said goodbye too soon, but the life that preceded the loss will carry me for the rest of mine. Our love didnโ€™t just stand the test of time, it outlasted it, and will continue for the rest of time.

The longer I live, and the more intensely life batters, the more clear the unavoidable truth becomes. As believers, we are not insulated from pain. There is no celestial immunity from difficulty, no divine guarantee that calamity wonโ€™t befall us. We can neither know what life will bring, nor change what life will bring. What we are guaranteed, though, is that we are never alone.

Jimmy has gone on ahead, now, but my first Love, my preeminent Love, remains. He loved me first. He loves me still. He has kept me on my feet and transfused my sorrow with purpose, and, yes, even joy.

Jesus, Jimmy, and Bevโ€”We were stitched together, the three of us. โ€œA strand of three cords is not easily broken,โ€ and we were inseparably bound.

The love Jimmy and I shared was shaped and preceded by a Divine Romance, an overarching love story from which our earthly one originated. Our fairytale ended, yes, but not our happily ever after. Jimmy just got there first, thatโ€™s all. He wouldnโ€™t have wanted it any other way, and I promised him, as his breathing slowed and finally ceased, that I would follow soon enough.

As promised in the Scriptures he faithfully proclaimed, Jimmyโ€™s faith was finally made sight as he was ushered into the presence of the One heโ€™d loved his whole life. Jimmy has seen, up close and personal, that his faith was never misplaced, and that ๐‘Ž๐‘™๐‘™ heโ€™d expected, hoped, and dreamed is more than he could have ๐‘๐‘’๐‘”๐‘ข๐‘› to imagine here, this side of Heaven.

He has seen that it was ๐‘Ž๐‘™๐‘™ worth it, and that Jesus was worth it ๐‘Ž๐‘™๐‘™.

He is now with our preeminent Love, the One heโ€™d always loved. One day, I will be too. In death, as in life, Jimmy always led the way, and I would have followed him anywhere. This time is no different.

The day is coming when the very Ancient of Days Himself steps in and, once and for all, tramples death, vanquishes the enemy, and makes all things newโ€”but until then, I navigate life in the here and now, suspended in that waiting place between promise and fulfillment, living in a home that is not my home.

With each day that passes, our reunion gets closer, and when the three of us are finally together again, we will have all eternity to discover the joys of what it truly means to live โ„Ž๐‘Ž๐‘๐‘๐‘–๐‘™๐‘ฆ ๐‘’๐‘ฃ๐‘’๐‘Ÿ ๐‘Ž๐‘“๐‘ก๐‘’๐‘Ÿ.

Just a while longer, my love. Being your girl was my dream come true and the honor of my life. I canโ€™t wait to see you again.

๐ป๐‘œ๐‘ค ๐‘ฃ๐‘’๐‘Ÿ๐‘ฆ ๐‘๐‘™๐‘’๐‘ ๐‘ ๐‘’๐‘‘ ๐‘ค๐‘’ ๐‘ค๐‘’๐‘Ÿ๐‘’.

Join Me on Social Media for Hope and Encouragement

ยฉ 2024 Beverly Carroll