Long-distance love is a test of endurance.
Every video call between Edwin and Grace was a lifeline — a flicker of presence in the space between two continents. Toronto and California were just a few hours apart on the clock, but sometimes it felt like a universe separated them.
They scheduled regular calls, prayed together weekly, and sent surprise notes through email and handwritten letters. It wasn’t easy — but this time, it wasn’t casual either.
This was intentional.
They had agreed to walk slowly, but both knew in their hearts that this wasn’t simply a rekindled romance — this was the unfolding of a promise delayed but not denied.
Edwin began waking up earlier just to speak with Grace before she went to work. He had always been a man of structure and discipline, but now his prayers came with deeper urgency.
“Lord,” he often whispered, “if You’re leading us to marriage, make the path unmistakably clear — not easy, but undeniable.”
Meanwhile, Grace kept her own rhythm — journaling every morning, joining a new women’s Bible group focused on godly courtship, and even meeting with her pastor for spiritual guidance.
“I need accountability,” she told her mentor. “This is a good man. But I don’t want feelings to cloud what only God should confirm.”
The more they talked, the deeper the conversations became.
They revisited the past: the blood compact, the pain of separation, the years they spent apart. They discussed childhood wounds, future dreams, and even unresolved fears.
One late-night call in particular stood out.
“Grace,” Edwin said, “what if this time, we face hardships together? No more running alone. No more bearing things in silence.”
Grace paused, then said something she’d never voiced aloud.
“I used to think if God ever brought you back, I’d need you to prove yourself. But now… I don’t want proof. I want partnership. I want to grow in faith, not control. I want to build something sacred — and slow.”
Edwin nodded. “Then let’s build.”
But not everything was smooth.
Some days, doubts crept in. Could they handle the wait? Would immigration and visa processes delay things again? What would their families say now that they were older — starting over, when others their age were already settled?
One weekend, Grace had a minor health scare — chest pains from stress. Edwin couldn’t fly to her. He couldn’t even hold her hand in the hospital. All he could do was pray over the phone and ask her nurse to keep him updated.
That night, he wept.
“God, I can handle distance. But please don’t let me go through this again — loving her from afar with no power to protect.”
That experience changed him.
A few weeks later, Edwin called Grace during a lunch break.
“I’ve been praying,” he said. “And I don’t want to wait for perfect timing anymore. I’m going to apply for extended leave and come visit again. Not just to spend time, but to talk to your family. I want to do this right. I want to ask for your hand — not today, not rushed — but with honor.”
Grace’s eyes welled up.
“Are you sure?” she asked. “This means sacrifice… again.”
“I’m sure,” Edwin replied. “Because I’m not chasing feelings anymore. I’m responding to calling.”
When Edwin arrived a month later, the visit felt different.
It wasn’t romantic in the movie sense — there were no candlelit dinners or grand surprises. Instead, it was sacred, grounded, and full of quiet confirmation. They served together at her church’s outreach, helped a friend move apartments, and even attended a weekend couples retreat hosted by a local ministry.
It was there that a defining moment occurred.
During a session about biblical commitment, the speaker said,
“Love isn’t just about connection — it’s about covenant. If you’re still wondering whether this is love, ask yourself: can I commit to this person when they are not perfect, when life gets hard, and when I don’t feel the butterflies?”
Edwin looked at Grace.
Grace looked at Edwin.
And suddenly, neither of them was unsure anymore.
On the final night of his trip, they walked by the coastline near her apartment — the same path they had walked during his previous visit. The moon reflected gently on the water.
Edwin turned to her, took her hands, and smiled.
“I don’t know all the steps ahead,” he began. “But I know Who’s ordering them. And I know this: I want to build my life with you. Will you allow me to pursue you — now, fully, with your family’s blessing, with accountability, and with every intention of marriage?”
Grace didn’t hesitate.
“Yes. Not because I feel ready for everything. But because I trust God… and I trust you.”
And so, love that once stood still, began to move again — not rushed, but surrendered.
They were no longer the boy and girl who made promises under the stars.
They were a man and woman who had been broken, healed, and brought back together — not by fate, but by faith.
