My wife Mary grew up in a solid Christian home with parents fully committed to the Lord and His people. Church was a second home, with three services on Sunday (they attended all three) and a mid-week prayer and Bible study service. In a land-locked community, the small congregation was a powerful outreach for Christ. It began with her parents and a few others as a Sunday school, which then turned into a church after a few years. They were part of the Plymouth Brethren movement, a group that traces its roots to the early 1800s as a breakaway from the formalism and exclusivism of the church of England.

They emphasized the priesthood of all believers (and therefore a rejection of a priestly caste) and a weekly remembrance of the Lord in a separate but simple communion service featuring spontaneous, Spirit-led worship and a central focus on Christ’s sacrifice on the cross. This group was characterized by their strong emphasis on teaching and knowing the Bible, along with a strong emphasis on doctrine, evangelism and missionary work to bring lost souls to the saving knowledge of Christ. At one point, the brethren missionary force among Protestant groups was the second largest in the world, following the Baptists (as one seminary professor of missiology noted).

It was into this movement Mary was born and she identified with it strongly. On the other hand, I was raised Catholic, only two years into my new life as a believer and unsettled in my identification with any particular group. In an unlikely pairing, we shared a passion for serving the Lord full-time. That was a significant part of our first date.

Lest this come across as overly spiritualized, I thought she was beautiful, a dream come true. She was a godly young woman and I loved being with her and talking with her. While walking in her neighborhood, our hands fell together for the first time, as naturally and easily as two pieces of a puzzle fitting perfectly together, her hand creamy soft and smooth. Our first kiss a few weeks later sent me sky high as we lingered on the bottom step of the stairs in the home of some friends, not wanting to leave or for the evening to end.

Living two hours apart, our weekend dates began with dinner at her parents’ home, continued with me sleeping in their basement and finished up on Sunday nights. The five days in between had one focus only: getting back to Mary on Friday evening after work.

After three months, Mary said she was not interested in endless dating, but our continuing together needed a purpose. That meshed with my thinking as well, so I wasted no time and took her up to the Panasonic tower overlooking Niagara Falls in Canada and there proposed to her. She told me later she kind of thought this was the direction our relationship was going but wasn’t expecting it so soon. As for me, I knew what I wanted and found it in her—a partner in serving the Lord wholeheartedly. Her response initially was, “Um, I think so.” My heart slowed down. Then she threw her arms around me and said, “Yes, Yes, Yes.” My heart skipped a million beats. Six months later, we married, and for three years we threw ourselves into growing together and serving the Lord (while holding down our jobs during the day). At the end of that time, we both were renewed in our desire to serve God more fully; for me that meant leaving a promising career in what is now called information technology (IT). Uprooting our lives, we moved to Texas with our 8-month-old son and into a life of experiencing God’s faithfulness in meeting all our needs.

Time and space do not allow me to recount all the miraculous ways God showed Himself to us. While working part-time and supporting our family with Mary being a stay-at-home mom, I made it through four years of full-time graduate studies and never missed a meal or a financial obligation, nor did we incur any school loan debt. This was just the beginning of God demonstrating how He can miraculously provide, according to His riches in glory, for all the needs of an ordinary couple who simply believed in a great and awesome God.

Our hope is that these stories will help others see that the glory is all about God, not us. He simply wants each of us to trust Him. Mary and I are no different from anyone else. We are not gifted any more than anyone else. We have at times fallen short in our faithfulness to Him, but He has never failed us. If there is any value in sharing our stories, it is this. God is great!