Three Thought Thursday

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Dear Reader,

It finally happened—and I thought my ten days out East were pretty crazy.

Six days ago, I asked the love of my life to marry me, and it was the best day of our lives.

I couldn’t be more excited, but more importantly, I’m absolutely sure about this decision. I’m thrilled to enter into this new season of Abby and I’s relationship.

It’s been a few months leading up to this moment. Although Abby and I have been dating for almost four years, the past few months have felt like the season of preparation for the engagement, and I’ve learned a lot of lessons along the way.

Love—that’s the theme for this Three Thought Thursday.

The Conversation

The flowers were in full bloom; it was the time of year when 55 degrees meant shorts and a T-shirt. The windows were rolled down, but inside the car, you could hear a pin drop.

Throughout the three and a half years that Abby and I dated, we maintained a boundary where we used singular nouns when discussing our future rather than plural nouns. For example, "when I have a kid" versus "when we have a kid," or "the house that I want to live in" versus "the house we will live in." This approach served as a healthy reminder of our current relationship status: dating, not engaged, or married. However, I reached a point where I wanted to initiate conversations about engagement.

We had an amazing trip planned to Mexico City later that month, where I intended to start the conversation. It was a romantic week for just the two of us in a new city, allowing us all the time in the world to discuss our relationship…until a drive back from Michigan changed everything.

Halfway through the drive, I mentioned something about the future and engagement (unrelated in my mind), and Abby quickly responded, "So what about us?" She’s so good at naming the elephant in the room and not letting it sit there unrecognized for too long. I love that about her.

That’s when silence enveloped the car. Instead of having an entire week to discuss this topic (like I had planned), we had only an hour and a half in the car. The timing was not perfect, but it was the moment to discuss it. Over the next hour and a half, we had one of the most meaningful discussions of our entire relationship, excitedly sharing our mutual desire to get engaged and married. This conversation helped prepare both of our hearts for what happened six days ago.

Although it might not have been the perfect moment in my mind—ideally, it would have been during our trip to Mexico City—it was the right moment because it was when the conversation needed to happen. It reminded me that in life, there may seem to be a perfect moment, but often, the outcome you desire will occur earlier than expected.

The right moment will happen, but the perfect one rarely does.

The Delayed Diamond

The day before the proposal, I was sprinting to catch the train. Fifteen minutes earlier, I had been waiting in line at the jewelry section of Macy's department store on Michigan Avenue. Before that, I was at JCPenney, and before that, I was at TJ Maxx. Every possible backup ring looked horrible. Earlier that day, I had an appointment with the jeweler, who informed me that they could not provide me with a loaner ring despite being notified the day before that the engagement ring I had ordered—the one that would be on Abby's finger for the rest of her life—was delayed until next week due to a shipping malfunction. This added to the stress of the day before when I received an email about a manufacturing delay. The day before that, I had driven back to my parent’s house to pick up the ring I had purchased, which was supposed to arrive three days before I planned to propose. Not anymore.

This may seem like a tight deadline (it is), but I wanted to have the ring in my possession for a short time, knowing I wouldn't be able to keep the secret. To complicate matters, her parents were driving in from Michigan, and her sister and best friend were flying in from Colorado. The engagement ring I intended to propose with would not arrive until three days after I was set to get down on one knee due to manufacturing and shipping delays. I was panicking. That Thursday afternoon, 24 hours before I was supposed to propose, I was sitting at my desk without a ring. How the heck was I going to propose without a ring?

By God's grace, the jewelry store called me back later that evening and said they had found a loaner ring that looked similar to the one that would eventually be on her finger. I could borrow it for the engagement until my actual ring arrived. The weight of the world lifted off my shoulders, but I still felt a sense of failure. I should have planned better and worried that the absence of the actual ring would upset Abby.

Funny enough, a few minutes after she said yes, I told her that her actual ring was still in the mail. Abby could not have been less worried. She taught me something very valuable: that the ring—loaner or real—was just a symbol of the more significant event. Yes, the ring was important, but the most important thing was that we were engaged and would get married. The ring was more symbolic than anything else, and at least she had one.

Now, don’t get me wrong; the ring is gorgeous. I cried when I finally opened the real one and put it on Abby's finger, but it paled in the significance of us actually getting engaged.

Treat rings as symbols, not spectacles.

The Plan

Last night, I arrived back at the apartment around midnight and had to get up early for work after a long evening of beginning the wedding planning process. It felt productive, but it also felt like we had a mountain to climb. Even as I pulled into my parking spot and laid my head on the pillow, knowing there was stress and more tired nights ahead, I felt a calming presence.

It was a privilege to feel the stress. It was an honor to have tough conversations about the wedding. I felt lucky that we were able to sweat over the little things.

Then I realized that it’s not just about wedding planning. The stress of applying for a dream job that you want is an honor because you have the opportunity to apply for the job of your dreams. The nervous butterflies in your stomach when preparing for the championship game, you are about to play in should be a feeling of honor because you get to play in that game. The nerves over saying the right thing at a conference you are paid to speak at should be embraced because you are being compensated for sharing your expertise on stage.

Savor the stress amidst the celebrate

Above everything else, I’m the luckiest man in the world.

Grateful for Abby,

Tommy

P.S. Can you do me a favor if you learned something new in this edition? Forward this letter to a friend who may not know about one of these three stories.