He walked into the room like he owned it.

“Who is THAT?” I said to myself.

I had no idea someone that handsome was on campus. He was the epitome of masculinity. It wasn’t just the fact that he was wearing his naval officer’s uniform. It was the way he commanded the room, as though his presence meant we were all under his protection.

The day I met my husband almost didn’t happen, however. 

I was invited to attend the New Faculty Luncheon hosted by the Dean, but I’d decided not to go. I was tired of attending all these Let’s Celebrate The Beginning of the School Year events. I just wanted to get to work. At the last minute I decided to just suck it up and go to the little luncheon.

I was on a dissertation fellowship and my goal was to finish my project, teach a class, and then find a job so I could move back to Charlotte, North Carolina, where I was certain I would find my husband. As far as I was concerned, Milwaukee didn’t have any marriageable men so I didn’t want to stay there!

But meeting this man changed my attitude, little by little. 

We didn’t exchange numbers when we first met. In fact, he barley smiled at me even though I sat across the table from him during the luncheon. We had a brief conversation on the walk back to campus, during which I discovered we attended the same church. I found out later he didn’t want his Executive Officer, who was standing there smirking at him, thinking he was fraternizing while on duty, so we said our goodbyes and that was that.

Or so I thought.

A few weeks later, I told my mentor about him. She was not-so-secretly trying to find me a husband so I’d stay in Milwaukee and work for the university.

She played matchmaker and dropped in his office one day. She taught in the room next to his office and decided to name drop. She peeked her head in his room and said, “Hi! Aesha Adams told me she met you,” and just walked away.

My husband told me later that he thought to himself, “Hmmmm. . . she must be talking about me. . . let me send her an email.”

The next thing I know, I got a message in my inbox: “If you ever want to get out of your cubicle and take a break from writing, let me know.”

If we had emoticons back then, my reply would have been full of them. Instead, I just used a bunch of exclamation points to tell him I’d LOVE to go to lunch or coffee.

He picked coffee.

As we sipped carmel macchiatos that October day, I asked him to tell me about his life as a naval officer, his deployment to Japan, what it felt like to grow up with three older sisters and more.

11 months later, we were married.

This week we celebrate eight years of wedded bliss. As I reflect on our life together, the main question on my mind is . . .

What if…?

• What if I’d decided my work was more important than going out to meet new people at a luncheon?
• What if I thought Roy wasn’t interested in me because he didn’t ask me for my phone number when we first met?
• What if I didn’t tell my mentor about meeting Roy because I didn’t want her to think I was desperate to find a man?
• What if I was too nervous on our first coffee date and ended up being so self-conscious that I didn’t make a connection?
• What if I’d stuck with my belief that there were no good men in my city?
• What if I held on to all the heartache, disappointment, fear and rejection from my past, instead of seeing it all as a gift from God to help prepare me for the amazing life I now have with my husband?

What if you’re reading this now because God wants you to believe again, to hope again, to try again, to love again?

The day you meet “The One” will feel like any other day. Be ready!