In the Beginning.

We met in a bar. Seriously. Much to the chagrin of my Southern Baptist parents. A whirlwind romance ensued. Within 4 weeks of meeting, we KNEW we were to marry and spend our lives together, seeking the adventure of following God's will for our lives.

It was suppose to be a girls night out. Just Laura and me. We were both single women in our late twenties teaching middle school, and we needed a night out, a night when and where we could wear sexy clothes, away from our pubescent students. My rules, which I conveyed to her over and over, were: 1. We were not out to pick up a guy. 2. We were not to become intoxicated. I wanted to have maybe one drink and dance, dance, dance.

Rusty and Clint showed up at Laura's apartment. Lisa was already there when I arrived, and on the verge of complete intoxication. Rusty was about six feet tall or taller, bald, shiney head, and an old Western, cowboy style mustache. Clint was an average guy, completely smitten with Lisa. Rusty was knocking back beers before we left. I was mad. Mad at Laura. This was suppose to be a GIRLS NIGHT ONLY!! What part of that did she NOT understand? I was dealing with middle school kids everyday, in a SMALL Southern town. I wanted to get out, kick up my heals, and have a good time hanging out with my girlfriend.

The ride to the bar seemed to go on forever. Clint pulled the huge white, Dulley truck into the parking lot of this old Victorian home, with a neon sign that read "Sassy Anne's." I could hear my mother's voice in my head. All she said was my name, in that disapproving tone, "Stacey..." Which means: You know this is not a good idea, What have you gotten yourself into, Your Daddy and I did not raise you this way... Yes, she said all that by just saying my name. (Someday I, too, will have that power.)

Once we all piled out of the truck and filed into the bar, our gaggle seemed to dissipate. I lost track of Clint and Lisa. Laura was cattin' around for guys. Oh, then there was Rusty, who seemed fascinated by me. Grrrrr. The bar itself was really unique. Dark, hardwood everywhere, with a bar down stairs and a bar upstairs. The upstairs bar had the bar area, with a dining-style set-up, a tiny dance floor, a balcony with tables, and a small 4 piece band located opposite of the bar, under the balcony. I made a bee-line for the dance floor, trying to get lost in what I enjoy most: dancing. Rusty followed me. Grrr. Laura comes running up to me, tells me about some guy named Chad who she was chatting-up, and then says I have to meet his friend: a swing dancing theologian. Oh, geesh. I was not here to meet a man. I just wanted to have a fruity, tainted drink and dance til my legs screamed for me to stop. Fine. She introduced me to this guy named Brandon. He was a strawberry blond, green eyes, slender build, wearing khaki shorts, white-collared shirt, and Teva sandals. I noticed the large water and fire ichthus (a fish shape representing Christ and Christianity) tattoo on his left forearm. He was quiet, and very polite. We made quick introductions, then began a swing dance basic step on the tiny dance floor. Anything to dodge Rusty. As we danced, the band decided to play swing music for us, then the floor cleared and we were the only ones dancing. All eyes were on us. (It was like a scene out of a 1980's Michael J. Fox movie.) I realized he was a great partner. He knew how to spin me and dip me and lead me like a man should. Yes, I am still talking about dancing.

Once the song was over, the crowd clapped for us. We laughed and then decided to go to the bar downstairs, so we could have a conversation. We chatted, discussing his tattoo, which had the Hebrew characters for "servant" in the middle of the ichthus. I thought that any man who had "servant" tattooed on his arm had to be a special man. Then Rusty, who had had a few too many, mixed with ignorance and redneck ways, tried to pick a fight with Brandon. Evidently, Rusty had already claimed me as his own. Brandon leans over to me and says, "Don't worry. I deal with guys like him every day." He had been working with dysfunctional teens at a lock down facility, and was use to restraining drug-crazed teens. Brandon rationalized with Rusty, which was an amazing feat within itself. How does one rationalize with an irrational, drunk, horny bull?

The evening was waning into morning, and the motley crew I was with was ready to head out. Lisa was passed out in the truck. Rusty soon followed. Clint was the designated driver. Laura was gitty, still chatting with Chad, who I found out had a girlfriend. Hmmm. I told Brandon that I would like to see him again. We exchanged phone numbers. I kissed him on the cheek, then left.

He called me the next evening. (Score!) Within the first 5 minutes of the conversation I said to him, "Just because you met me in a bar does not mean that you are going to sleep with me." I was a virgin, and planned to remain so until I married. (Once married, I planned to give that virginity away as fast as he could take it!) He said, "Oh, really? Well, just because you met ME in a bar does not mean that you are going to sleep with ME!" He too was a virgin. "Ok, now that we have that straightened out..." After that, we talked for 3 hours. Our first date was 12 hours long.

We dated intensely for 2 weeks, then I flew to Australia, a trip I had been planning and saving for for a year. I was planning on spending 6 weeks in Australia and 3 weeks in Holland. Brandon took me to the airport. We prayed together in the airport, asking God to give protection on my journey. I had told Brandon that I was not going to be the first to say, "I love you."... Because I am a girl, and that's just what we do; we love easily, at least I do. And, I told him that if we were to marry, I wanted him to be established at the head of our household, and whether or not he loved me and wanted to spend the rest of his life with me was between him and God.

I traveled for over 30 hours. I missed him terribly. Once I landed in Perth, Western Australia, I exchanged my money and bought a phone card. The next afternoon, midnight in Knoxville, I called Brandon. He answered and I said, "Hi, this is Stacey." He said, "You are the most beautiful creature on God's green Earth, and I am madly in love with you! I have been sick for two days. I can't sleep. I can't eat. I love you!" I said, "I love you, too!" And I did. I knew I did. It seemed so natural to say it. He said, "No, did you hear me? I LOVE you?" I said, "Yes, I love you too!!" He responded, "Good. Now, how was your trip?"

He hates it when I tell that part. But to me, it is one of my most precious memories of our beginning. We spent all summer on the phone. After two weeks into my stay in Perth, we decided that we were to marry. I bought my wedding dress in Perth and had it shipped home. He bought my engagement ring with out me seeing it, which was perfect and gorgeous and precious.

June 9, 2001 we married. We began Team Wilhite. Still today we LOVE being married and thank God often that He saved and kept us for each other.

Sassy Anne's, that old Victorian bar in Knoxville, was a divine appointment. Neither of us had ever been there before, and we have never been back. However, that "horrible" night began the rest of my life.

And we are living...

Happily Ever After.