One Plus One Equals Ten

A couple of years after Kenny and I met—but before I had any idea we’d end up together—he made a guest appearance in a dream that would forever change the way I view relationships.

At the time, I’d been single for about a year and was enjoying it immensely. All I’d wanted for decades was peace, and God had granted me just that. I was living on Music Row, spending my days at an editing job I enjoyed and my evenings hanging out with the homeless at a ministry I loved, eating sushi with girlfriends, or jogging in my trendy neighborhood. For all I cared, life could go on just as it was into eternity. I was having fun, steadily healing from years of grief, and experiencing deep joy like never before. If I was to get married again, it would have to be nothing less than a God-thing.

 

So anyway, the dream: I was standing in the shadow of a tall, benevolent man, and several women were prepping me for marriage. As they donned me with flowers and arranged my veil, I felt what can only be described as panic. I wasn’t ready for marriage. Even though the atmosphere surrounding the faceless man was positive, I was terrified of saying “I do” again. “Wait!” I yelled. And then I said something that didn’t initially make sense as I pointed to my left, toward someone I couldn’t see. “If I must get married again, let me marry him.” Several times I repeated myself: “If I must have a husband, please, let it be him!”

Someone in the crowd asked, “Why him?” I didn’t know the answer until it came from my dream-self’s mouth. “Because we have the same heart,” I said. Only then did I turn to my left and see who was standing there. It was Kenny York.

And then I woke up.

“What was that about?” I prayed. The Lord spoke again to my heart: “One plus one equals ten.”

“Huh?”  (I learned long ago that prayers need not be eloquent.)

“One plus one equals ten,” God continued. “You, by yourself, and your future husband, by himself, are able to accomplish only so much for Me. But the effectiveness of the two of you together, once you’re married, will be exponential. One plus one will equal ten.”

God was referring to the holy synergy that happens with certain pairings—whether between spouses, friends, pastor and associate pastor, or mother and daughter—that He uses to affect more lives than would be affected if each person were to fly solo. That made sense to me; after all, He “appointed seventy-two . . . and sent them two by two ahead of him to every town” (Lk. 10:1, NIV). Apparently, there was another marriage in my future that would serve God’s greater purposes. I was confident that He’d allow me to experience the joys of a God-sanctioned marriage—and indeed life with Kenny is a daily delight and adventure—but those benefits are secondary to God’s purposes.


Since the timing wasn’t yet right, it’s good that it took me quite a while to realize that God was being literal by including Kenny in this dream. My initial response was that he was symbolic of the man after God’s heart. Kenny and I had been serving alongside one another at a weekly outreach to the homeless. He cooked for and pastored our guests, and I worked with our volunteers and generally made sure everyone left with full bellies. I had the highest respect for Kenny, who clearly made enormous sacrifices to care for the broken. If I’d been asked to assemble the perfect man, he would have had Kenny’s big, compassionate, God-fearing, people-loving heart. To me, the metaphor went no further, but I’d absorbed the important message behind it: that marriage is, first and foremost, about God and His purposes. That certain pairings produce exponential results. That earthly relationships can yield heavenly outcomes.

Take a minute and examine your relationships. Is there one in particular that produces holy synergy (or that did in the past)? Are you half of a one-plus-one-equals-ten equation?