Miracle in the Steeple
Introduction (Miracle in the Steeple)
Although the genesis of this story really began in God’s providential workings in eternity past, we are going to limit our account to the space and time of His creation with which we are mostly familiar. In the early 60’s the Lord set in motion circumstances which culminated in both Pat and Stoner landing on the University of Maryland campus at College Park Maryland. Pat migrated to the University of Maryland after completing two years of study in Baltimore at the Peabody Conservatory for music where she forfeited the remainder of a four year scholarship. Her intrastate transition amounted to traveling down Route 1 about 32 miles to College Park. Stoner, on the other hand, came to College Park from Tachikawa, Japan, a distance of 6,780 miles.
Pat and Stoner eventually met on the campus of 35,000 students through the vast and varied music programs. Pat was majoring in applied music while Stoner was pursuing a B.S. in music education. Pat wanted to play flute professionally while Stoner wanted to direct high school bands. Their respective paths crossed through their participation in various ensembles such as symphony orchestra, wind ensemble, and pit orchestras for the different musicals. However, their original goals were drastically altered once Stoner answered the call to full time ministry. Even so, Pat was able to play professionally a number of times over the ensuing years partaking in the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra, the Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra, and various other music ensembles.
Miracle in the Steeple
It was a typical lovely spring evening as Pat and I sauntered hand in hand across the University of Maryland campus that particular evening. We were mostly oblivious to the sights and sounds around us as we chatted casually in our aimless jaunt. Lacking any forethought, we somehow arrived at the college chapel which happens to be located at the highest point of elevation on the entire campus. In our unscripted meandering that evening we decided to checkout the building. In those days, 1964, many buildings were left unsecured.
Once inside that magnificent structure, we thought it would be fun to see how far up we could ascend. After taking the stairs as far as possible, we saw there was a fixed ladder which ascended all the way up into the steeple. Like curious kids upon discovering a secret room, we climbed up into the steeple. We were now at the highest point of elevation for many miles in any direction. The view from that perspective was incredible. By this time it had grown fairly dark and you could see the lights in Washington, D.C. from where we were. To say that this was a most romantic setting would be a gross understatement. Tell me now, honestly, what would you be saying in such amorous surroundings to the girl you hoped would someday become your bride.
At this juncture, you need to know a little background so as to fully appreciate what transpired next. I (Stoner) grew up with a powerfully embedded rejection syndrome. I won’t go into the details of how that came about but it has plagued me most of my life. This condition was so strong that if a girl’s response to my inquiry for a date was hesitant I would immediately change the subject and quickly disengage. I had thoroughly developed every defensive mechanism known to man. I learned to protect myself at all costs.
(Interestingly, I once had a week to kill prior to catching a flight to Tachikawa, Japan, so I answered an ad to sell country club memberships door-to-door. Obviously, you have to take a lot of “no’s” before you get a positive response in such a situation. Incredibly, I sold three memberships and made $135.00, a tidy sum for a teenager in 1960.)
Meanwhile back in the steeple, fear of rejection was probably my strongest psychological motivation at that time. There, in the close confines and dim lighting of the steeple, at the highest point of elevation in maybe the entire county, with a surrounding view of untold miles, I abandoned my fears, looked Pat in the eyes, and said “I love you.” Keep in mind that at this point we had dated for barely one month. Pat’s response was fairly quick, unmeasured, and matter-of-fact: “Well, I don’t love you and I don’t think I ever will.”
Keep in mind that we are talking here about the relational mentality in 1964. In Pat’s mind, telling someone you loved them was tantamount to saying you wanted to marry them. Pat had previously rejected a few other marriage proposals and she was adamant in not wanting to deeply wound me. It was at this point that the crux of the miracle materialized. Rather than being devastated, I simply said, “Well, I guess I will just have to make you love me.”
Shortly after the steeple experience, Pat took me home to meet her parents. Her father’s response was, “I like him; I think he would be good to you.” Trusting in the good judgement of her father, Pat basically made a decision to love me— a decision she has never faltered from through all the trials and tribulations of our long and enduring marriage.
We continued to date. One month later we were pinned (this is when you give your fraternity pin to your girlfriend), two months later we were engaged (this time with a ring from GEMCO which Pat eventually paid off at $17.50 per month), and five months later we were married in Alexandria, VA.
Next month we will celebrate 63 years of marriage which has seen us grow more intensely in love and more devoted to our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Only God could so ordain circumstances that would bring two people who grew up 3,000 miles apart to meet on a campus of 35,000 students at precisely the right time. Only God could prepare young, impressionable hearts to be aligned and accepting of His perfect will. Only God could give us the wonderful relationship and lives we have shared throughout these years. Only God could have given us the miracle in the steeple. May He be eternally glorified.
May all who read this learn to discover and celebrate the stories of the “steeples” in their lives.
