Trust God for your Love story - Faither & Doubter Blog

She was never the girl who pay attention to at all.

No striking beauty. No magnetic charm. Just a quiet, shy soul who found comfort between the pages of books while the world buzzed around her. Her personality was too dim, she thought—too soft, too invisible. She blended into the background while her siblings and friends stepped into one relationship after another. 

When she was lonely, she often get comfort from God, that she's loved and wanted in Titus 2:14 & Isaiah 54. 

And she watched them fall in love. Then fall apart.

She saw how each heartbreak chipped away at something precious—the ability to love fully, freely, without fear. By the time they reached their third or fourth relationship, their hearts had grown tired. Guarded. Wary. They still dated, but the passion had faded. The innocence was gone.

She wondered: What if the next one is "the one"? What if their heart is too bruised to recognize him?

One night, She got on her knees and spoke to God like He was her only friend—because in many ways, He was.

She told Him:

• Send me someone who complements my weakness—maybe someone who can cook, because I can't. Instead of asking for someone with strength of A,B,C like good in literature, graduated from financial mgmt., etc.

• Let him be five years older, so I can finally feel taken care of, since I've been the eldest daughter taking care of everyone else for so long. Instead of asking for someone who have maid and servant at home. 

• Not too tall—just enough to stand beside me. But please, not shorter than me either. Instead of someone with muscular body-shape. 

• Let his face feel familiar, like the men in my own family, so I never feel like a stranger in his presence. Instead of someone who's handsome and look like celebrity. 

• Not rich, but able to provide—because I've seen wealth make men forget how to be kind. Instead of asking for someone who have $100k in their bank account. 

• Let me be myself around him—completely, carelessly, without fear of being called weird. Instead of someone that would make she feel proud in front of other. 

• Give him a family background like mine, so neither of us ever feels inferior or unwelcome. Instead of someone who have relationship with any royal family, celebrity's family, etc. 

• And above all—give me true love. I don't even know what that means, but I trust You to show me. Instead of let me be the blessed-girl that everyone envy after marrying this men. 

She even whispered a small prayer about children: Maybe one. A son, perhaps. But I leave that to You too.

Then one night, something happened.

She dreamed.

In her dream, she was walking through a mall, holding the hand of a man she had never met. But his face—it wasn't strange to her. It looked like her father. Like her uncles. Like the men in her own family. Familiar. Safe. Warm.

He held her hand gently, and she felt something she had never felt before: complete freedom.

She laughed without fear. She spoke without hesitation. She was herself—fully, unapologetically, carelessly herself—and he didn't think she was weird. He didn't look at her with confusion or pity. He looked at her with love.

In that dream, she felt cherished. Not because she was beautiful or outgoing or impressive. But simply because she was her.

She woke up with tears in her eyes and cry for about an hour in prayer to God, please let her be with this men in her life. 

It felt too good to be true. A vision. A promise. Or maybe just a wish her lonely heart had cooked up while she slept.

Years passed.

And then—she met him.

A chef.
Slightly taller than her.
Five years older—born on October 18th. (She was born on December 18th.)
His face? It reminded her of her father. Just like in the dream.
He was gentle. Soft-spoken. Shy, just like her.
His family background was nearly identical to hers—both their fathers worked in construction industry.
He wasn't rich, but he was responsible. He couldn't buy her luxury bags, but he could feed a family and pay the bills.
And his heart? It was traditional, faithful, and ready for marriage.

She fell in love slowly. Deeply. For six years, they grew together.

In the seventh year, they had a son—though she had once dreamed of a daughter.

Two and a half years later, in their tenth year together, that daughter arrived too.

God didn't just answer her prayer. He exceeded it.

But while she was being blessed, she looked around and noticed something heartbreaking. Many of the people who had searched for love on their own terms—without prayer, without patience, without surrender—ended up in relationships that left them empty. Some settled. Some stayed in unhappiness. Others gave up entirely, too tired to try again.

They had chosen their own way. She had chosen to give it to God.

And God, in His faithfulness, did what only He could do: He wrote a story more beautiful than she could have ever written herself.