By Jeff Watson
THE ERICKSON TRIBUNE

Last year about this time, I found myself laughing inside. Before me sat a generous plate of Texas barbecue and one of those sweet ironies of faith. I had recently learned a rare story of tragedy and tenderness, so I pulled up to a Houston dinner table to hear more.

Although February will witness more than a billion Valentine’s Day cards being exchanged between lovers, I knew that Hallmark had not invented Jason and Courtenay’s relationship; instead, an Arab proverb kept whispering in my ear: “If we only get sunshine, we only have deserts.”

Far from the parched desert of lonely relationships, this young couple was thriving in an Eden of affection; with their garden blooming before my eyes, I wondered about the dark clouds that had brought them rain over the years.

In a blinding instant
One of the most torrential downpours took place in 1999. Though these two had been good friends since college, they had never chosen to love each other until the big storm hit.

Traveling in South Africa, Courtenay was part of a nine-person musical troupe when disaster struck. In a blinding instant, the musicians’ van careened across four lanes of traffic, flipping four times and landing on its crumpled roof.

Courtenay lay unconscious for days.

Investigators concluded that the van’s windows had immediately shattered during its violent rotations. As the fated group spun in providential chaos, Courtenay’s head and face pounded on the hot African asphalt. According to the six teammates who crawled out of the wreckage, the young soprano was unrecognizable. The medical pictures prove their story.

As news reached the States, hundreds of people begged heaven for mercy. Whether Courtenay would live, and whether she would be disabled or disfigured, Jason steadfastly pointed his heart toward hers—for better or for worse. “If I ever get the chance,” he promised himself, “I’ll tell Courtenay, and I’ll show Courtenay, what I’ve never said out loud—that I love her.”

Heaven heard.