How Friendship, Faith, and Consistency Became the Foundation for Something More
By Lela Jefferson Fagan
If you had asked me back then whether Oji and I were dating, I would have said no.
In fact, I’ve never been particularly fond of the word dating.
To me, dating always sounded temporary.
A relationship with an expiration date.
Something you expected to end one way or another.
But courtship is different.
Courtship carries intention.
It assumes that if things continue to move forward, they’re moving toward covenant.
Looking back now, I realize that’s exactly what Oji was doing.
The funny thing is…
I didn’t know he was courting me.
It Started with a Class Reunion That Wasn’t
Like so many people from Generation X, we found each other again online.
Not on a dating website.
Not because someone tried to set us up.
Through Classmates.com.
Around 2007, many of our former classmates began reconnecting online. As Facebook became more popular, many of us migrated there together.
Oji and I had known each other since high school.
By then, we hadn’t seen each other in well over a decade.
He commented on one of my posts about faith.
I replied.
One conversation became another.
Then another.
Before long, our messages became regular conversations.
There was nothing forced about them.
Nothing calculated.
Just two people reconnecting after life had shaped them in very different ways.
The Last Person I Expected to Meet Online
The irony wasn’t lost on me.
Years earlier, while attending Penn State, I had spent plenty of time in online chat rooms.
Most of those conversations revolved around Prince, whose music had a way of bringing strangers together.
From there came ICQ.
Then AOL Instant Messenger.
Ironically, one of those online conversations eventually led to my previous long-term relationship.
When that relationship ended, it also changed how I viewed meeting people online.
By the time Facebook arrived, I had largely stopped chatting.
I wasn’t looking for another online relationship.
Then Oji showed up.
And somehow…
It didn’t feel like talking to someone online.
It felt like talking to someone I’d known all along.
There was no pretending.
No pressure.
No games.
Just conversation.
Two Adults Meeting Again
We weren’t teenagers anymore.
We weren’t college students.
We were adults.
Old enough to have experienced success.
Old enough to have experienced disappointment.
Old enough to know that appearances rarely tell the whole story.
Both of us had come out of long-term relationships.
Both of us had intentionally stepped away from dating for about a year.
Neither of us was trying to fill a void.
We were learning how to become whole.
I had already begun doing the hard work of healing before Oji and I reconnected.
My relationship with Christ had become my foundation.
I had survived losing both of my parents.
I had built a career in ministry.
And although I couldn’t have known what the coming year would bring, God had already begun restoring the broken places in me.
Somewhere in the middle of all of that…
There was this man from my past.
Someone whose mind fascinated me.
Whose character intrigued me.
Whose spirit encouraged me.
Long before I fell in love with Oji…
I admired his soul.
Lunch Break Theology
Eventually our conversations moved from messages to phone calls.
Most of them happened during his lunch break.
At the time, I didn’t fully appreciate what that meant.
Today, after nearly fourteen years of marriage to a football coach, I understand.
A coach’s schedule is relentless.
Practices.
Meetings.
Film sessions.
Recruiting.
Game preparation.
Lunch isn’t just lunch.
It’s one of the few moments that truly belongs to him.
Yet day after day…
He chose to spend that time talking with me.
Not flirting.
Not trying to impress me.
Talking.
We discussed Scripture.
Books.
Faith.
Purpose.
Life.
Sometimes I shared authors or biblical teachings that had encouraged me during my own spiritual journey.
In return, Oji introduced me to the men whose leadership philosophies had shaped him.
He often talked about coaches he admired from afar—leaders like Tony Dungy and Vince Lombardi.
Because of those conversations, I read Tony Dungy’s books on servant leadership and faith.
I also read Vince Lombardi’s autobiography.
Years later, while we were courting, we attended the Broadway production of Lombardi together.
What fascinated me wasn’t football.
It was leadership.
Character.
Discipline.
Service.
Those were the qualities Oji admired.
Those were the qualities he intentionally sought to model throughout his own coaching career.
Looking back now, I realize those conversations were building something much deeper than either of us understood.
Trust.
Respect.
Shared values.
A foundation.
Breakfast at IHOP
Eventually there came a time when messages and phone calls weren’t enough.
Our class reunion weekend created an opportunity to reconnect in person.
At least…
That was the plan.
I couldn’t attend the reunion because I was scheduled to work at church that evening.
Life happened.
Again.
Before Oji returned to Albany the following morning, we carved out a little time together.
Breakfast.
IHOP.
Nothing elaborate.
Just two old classmates sharing pancakes and conversation.
Somewhere during that breakfast, I quietly acknowledged something to myself.
I liked him.
I never announced it.
Neither did he.
We simply continued talking.
Looking back now, I think that’s one of the healthiest things we could have done.
There was no pressure to define anything before its time.
No emotional ultimatums.
No pretending.
Just two people continuing to get to know one another.
Looking Back
Years later, I finally realized something.
Oji wasn’t simply staying in touch.
He was being intentional.
Steady.
Consistent.
Present.
He wasn’t trying to win me over with grand romantic gestures.
He was allowing me to see who he truly was.
One lunch break at a time.
One conversation at a time.
One recommendation at a time.
One prayer at a time.
Without either of us realizing it…
Friendship had become courtship.
And courtship was quietly becoming covenant.
What I Know Now
One of my favorite things about our story is that neither of us seemed to be chasing a relationship.
We were pursuing growth.
We were pursuing God.
We were pursuing purpose.
The relationship became the byproduct of two people who had already decided they wanted their lives to honor Christ.
I used to think dating was supposed to answer one question:
“Do we like each other?”
Courtship asked a better one.
“Can we build a life together?”
I didn’t know Oji was courting me.
I just knew that every time we talked, I felt encouraged.
Respected.
Challenged.
Seen.
Looking back now, I realize those ordinary lunch-break conversations were anything but ordinary.
God was building a marriage before either of us knew there would be one.
Scripture Reflection
“As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another.”
Proverbs 27:17 (NIV)
Pull Quote
“Without either of us realizing it… friendship had become courtship. And courtship was quietly becoming covenant.”
Closing Reflection
There is so much emphasis today on finding “the one.”
But very little emphasis on becoming the kind of person who can recognize them when they arrive.
Looking back, I don’t remember flashy romance.
I remember consistency.
I remember conversations.
I remember Scripture.
I remember laughter.
I remember lunch breaks.
I remember learning the heart of a man long before I ever held his hand.
And maybe that’s what courtship was always meant to be.
Not a race to the altar.
But a slow, intentional journey where friendship, faith, and shared purpose become the strongest foundation for covenant.
Selah.
Found in the Margins is an ongoing memoir series by Lela Jefferson Fagan, exploring old journals, Bible study notes, friendships, faith, family, and the unexpected ways God reveals His fingerprints across an ordinary life.
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© 2026, Lela Fagan. All rights reserved.
