by Jeremy Camp
Adrienne had become disheartened by the Christian music scene. TBG had formed in South Africa in 1998 and had come to the United States the year before I met her. They were in the middle of a stretch in which they did about 250 shows a year for three consecutive years, so they were grinding away trying to make it in the business. To make matters worse, they had been doing the van-and-trailer thing the entire time since moving to the States.
TBG was struggling a little, and Adrienne also felt that neither she nor the band were where they needed to be spiritually. Music no longer seemed to be worth the sacrifice it was requiring. Adrienne was becoming cynical. It was easy to understand why, but still, I didn’t think she needed to be that way.
“You’re jaded,” I bluntly told her one day. I didn’t duck when I said that, but I was unsure how she would receive my, um, attempt to sharpen her iron. But my intention was to speak the truth in love.
“Really?” she asked, partly wondering if she really was jaded and also, I think, partly put off by my telling her that.
“Yeah, absolutely you are. Don’t be jaded. Don’t have a hard heart, because I know what that’s like, and it’s not good.”
A few days later, she thanked me for caring enough to notice and challenge her on her spiritual condition. She had been feeling distant from God, and He had been speaking to her that there was something not right in their relationship.
I felt like the Lord was bringing us together as close friends so that we could help each other work through the seasons we were going through in our lives.
We had some pretty personal conversations about Melissa. Adrienne was curious. She asked a lot of questions, and I answered whatever she asked. Of course, I had talked to a ton of people about Melissa in the first few months after she passed away. But now, eight months removed from Melissa’s death, Adrienne was the first woman I had talked to in depth about that time of my life, and it was beneficial for me to hear a female’s perspective.
Adrienne’s band learned during the tour that a close friend back home in South Africa had been murdered, and I tried to comfort Adrienne the best I could, based on my experiences with grief. There just seemed to be a lot going on in both of our lives, and our talks were producing healing for both of us.
I also was seeing the effectiveness I could have in one-on-one, personal conversations. Onstage and with fans in an environment like the merch table, I was getting used to talking about the example of Melissa’s life, but something was different about doing so in depth with one person.
Despite that we were spending more time with each other and having serious personal and spiritual conversations, there wasn’t anything attraction-wise between us. Adrienne wasn’t looking for someone, and I wasn’t to the point yet of thinking about beginning another relationship.
On top of that, we weren’t each other’s type. I was the extroverted, jock-type guy from the Midwest. Adrienne was an interesting mix of loud rocker/sweet introvert from South Africa. She was super artsy and creative, and I was, well, the jock.
We were nothing more than really, really good friends who had fun together, just as likely to sit down over lunch and talk about what we had read in the Bible that morning as we were to look at each other and say, “Wanna race?” then take off on a mad dash toward our imaginary finish line. (Except when she was in the ankle brace, although that didn’t stop me from challenging her.)
Adrienne had a small frame, and I had no idea she came from a family of good athletes. After her sprained ankle healed, I threatened to dump a cup of cold water on her, and she took off running. Let me tell you, I had to work to catch up with her. Needless to say, her sprinting ability impressed me.
What I liked most about Adrienne was how much she wanted to learn about God and the curiosity that would light up her face when we talked about spiritual matters.
Even though friendship was the full extent of our relationship, as we became closer, I started feeling guilty about spending so much time with her, and super guilty that I was having fun with a female other than Melissa. I would wonder whether it was even okay for me to be friends with Adrienne.
I remember once, late in the fall of 2002, I was alone, and that guilt was weighing heavily on me. I said aloud, “Man, I can’t do this.”
I began to withdraw from Adrienne. We would cross paths and I’d say, “Hey, good to see you! Sorry, but I’ve gotta go.” I didn’t tell Adrienne that I was intentionally backing away from her, but she told me later that she could tell that’s what I was doing. She told a friend she thought I was going to tell her we needed to stop spending time with each other.
The distance I was creating between us showed me how much I actually wanted to be around her. I would wonder what she was doing and then go out and try to “bump into her” somewhere around the tents. When I didn’t find her, I would be disappointed.
Every day, I felt more and more drawn to her. I missed her sweet spirit and playful personality. The differences I thought were proof we weren’t each other’s type? Perhaps, I began to consider, our relationship actually was a case of how opposites attract and complement each other.
But what I missed most was seeing her spiritual hunger. She had told me how Melissa inspired her and how she wanted to be “sold out for the Lord” like Melissa was.
I realized that I liked Adrienne. And not merely liked, but liked. Yes, that kind of like. And, although I didn’t know it at the time, she was feeling the same way about me.
Adrienne thought I might like her, too, when a group of us were hanging out playing pool and I let her beat me. I’m competitive, and in the spirit of good competition, I don’t make a habit of losing on purpose.
But there was something different about Adrienne.
GOING OUR SEPARATE WAYS
God, I prayed, what’s going on here? Being with Adrienne feels right, and yet it doesn’t feel right!
If I’m blessing you with something, He spoke to my heart, don’t question it too much. Receive My blessing.
I’d had enough of arguing with God in my prayers, so I quickly accepted His answer.
Then I remembered what Melissa had told me in that car ride home from the hospital: “I want to let you know that it’s okay if you find somebody else after I go, and I don’t want you to have to wait. You don’t have to sit in this grief for a long time.”
I hadn’t wanted to hear those words then, and I didn’t understand why Melissa would say them when we still had so much to fight for. But suddenly I recognized the stunning selflessness in her words and her wisdom in saying them, even though it could not have been easy.
Growing closer to Adrienne was both exhilarating and frightening. After Melissa went to heaven, I had put all my focus into ministering. That’s all I wanted to do. I hadn’t planned on falling in love again and hadn’t seriously considered that one day I could. When you lose a spouse, you become painfully aware of the great risk that comes with falling in love. I didn’t really want to take that risk again, and that’s one reason I had poured myself into ministry. God and me—nobody else. No distractions. To a degree, nice and safe.
What’s going on? I thought. It’s got to stop! I can’t start another relationship. I don’t even want to go there.
I needed to break off our relationship before it advanced any further, so I asked Adrienne to dinner so I could tell her it was over. We went to an Applebee’s in Oklahoma City, and I had a feeling that Adrienne was anticipating why I had invited her to dinner. I knew what I needed to say, but I hadn’t planned out how to say it.
We chit-chatted a little, ordered our food, and chit-chatted some more. The restaurant was busy, so it was fairly loud with all the conversations going on at the tables around us. All the while I was wondering how I was going to start what I had to say.
Finally, I decided I needed to do it before the food came. It wouldn’t have been the best conversation to have between bites.
I looked across the table at her. She looked back at me.
/> “Can you imagine spending the rest of your life with me?” I asked. “I mean, do you feel like you could marry me?”
I’m not sure if Adrienne wanted to ask, “What was that?” but I did! I couldn’t believe I had just said that. That was the complete opposite of “Listen, I’m sorry, but this isn’t right. I still want to be friends, but . . .”
Adrienne looked surprised, but smiled. “Yes,” she said.
“Okay,” I said with a chuckle. “I’ve got to be honest: I came here tonight to kind of break it off with you. I’ve been feeling so much guilt and uncertainty. It’s just overwhelming. But I couldn’t. That’s what came out. I’ve been through too much to play games, so—I hope you don’t mind that I just asked you such a serious question.”
“It’s totally fine,” she replied. “I’m glad we can just lay it all out like that.”
The waiter brought our entrées, and both of us picked at our food more than we ate it. I think we did more sitting there and looking at each other and wondering if what we thought had just happened had actually happened.
Festival Con Dios concluded before Thanksgiving, and I did not want to be apart from Adrienne. When we went our separate ways, we really went our separate ways. Adrienne’s band was based in Nashville, Tennessee, and I still lived in California. We compared our schedules and figured it would probably be at least a month before we would see each other again.
Thank goodness for cell phones! We talked practically every day, often for hours and sometimes until three or four o’clock in the morning. Even over the phone, our talks were as deep as they had been in person. I would say we talked about everything, but that’s probably too obvious because we would have had to talk about everything to stay on the phone with each other as often and for as long as we did.
Our three prominent topics were our relationships with the Lord, our future together, and my time with Melissa.
Adrienne stayed hungry to grow deeper in her relationship with God, and we decided to read through the Bible together and then talk about the various things the Lord would highlight for us. I loved Adrienne’s curiosity about all matters spiritual, and the questions she asked me made me feel like I was playing an important role in her spiritual growth. It was so obvious she was growing, and hearing the excitement in her voice as she recognized herself maturing spiritually made me want to be alongside her instead of having to settle for talking over the phone.
After the Applebee’s conversation, we mutually understood that we possessed relationship possibilities that warranted further exploration. That’s an English-class-essay way of saying that everything was totally rad between us and it was definitely “on.” Those phone calls while we were separated were a time of getting to know each other better. Although we spent a lot of time together on the tour, we hadn’t had many opportunities for extended one-on-one conversations. Because the tour basically was a traveling community, we spent most of our time hanging out in groups or with our bands. Once, I remember, Adrienne and I were able to sit down alone for about half an hour and have a good talk where we quizzed each other about everything we possibly could. We also took a few walks together, but at music festivals attended by thousands of people, they were far from long walks together in a serene, rolling meadow.
So it wasn’t until after the tour that we were able to enjoy uninterrupted time, even if it was all by phone. Every time we talked, I became more convinced that we needed to be together.
Talking with Adrienne about Melissa was such an important part of my healing process. I can’t overstate how helpful and mature Adrienne was. She was the perfect example of a friend carrying another’s burdens. I could talk to Adrienne about anything concerning Melissa, and she listened with such a sympathetic heart that there were many conversations that wound up with both of us crying.
During some of our discussions about Melissa, Adrienne would tell me, “I’m feeling a little insecure today.” I appreciated her being honest in admitting that. It would have been easy for her to think, This is my problem, and keep it to herself. But her feelings of insecurity were something that we needed to work through together. Her letting me know how she felt created opportunities for me to tell her that I didn’t have any expectations for her to live up to in comparison to Melissa. In fact, I was very intentional about never comparing Adrienne to Melissa in any way. I would tell Adrienne that she and Melissa were different and then try to reassure Adrienne of her strengths.
Adrienne did one thing I especially appreciated when we talked about Melissa: she would ask me questions about Melissa’s spiritual walk. Adrienne would tell me, based on what I had told her, how much she admired Melissa and how it sounded like Melissa had the type of relationship with the Lord that she was seeking. Talking about Melissa seemed beneficial for both of us, and that was important because it gave me the freedom to continue to talk about Melissa—a vital part of my grief recovery process.
MEET THE FAMILY
Our schedules did allow us the opportunity to see each other once in California in December, but that was the only time we could get together from the end of Festival Con Dios until early in 2003.
For Christmas, Adrienne flew home to South Africa and I went back to Indiana. I knew I needed to tell my family about her. I had let my mom know about her, but not how serious I was—partly because I was still trying to determine exactly how serious I was—and had asked her not to tell the rest of the family yet.
There hadn’t been anyone else since Melissa, and I expected everyone would have strong reactions the first time they heard I cared for someone else. Another factor at work was my history with relationships. I didn’t date just to date. I didn’t want to play games with a woman and risk hurting her if I didn’t think I could potentially have a serious relationship with her. Because of that, I knew that when my family members heard about Adrienne, they immediately would know I was serious about her.
While excited about what was happening with Adrienne, I wasn’t looking forward to telling my family about her. I had no clue about how to do so. I weighed making a big announcement to everyone against telling small groups of family members at a time.
I chose the announcement.
“You know that girl from The Benjamin Gate?” I asked. Before anyone could answer, I added, “I really like her. We’re dating.”
Whew! Got that one out!
My brother-in-law—April’s husband, Trent—said, “That’s awesome, dude!” I think that was the only positive reaction. My family is extremely gracious and warm. But they were taken aback at learning I was dating someone. I was hoping that wouldn’t be the case because I really needed support after experiencing guilt over falling in love again.
I understood why they were shocked. They hadn’t heard me talk of a woman other than Melissa like that, and they knew we were probably already pretty serious about each other. Plus, Adrienne was the front for a Christian rock band, a stereotype that didn’t fit the person they had imagined for me after Melissa. (They didn’t know yet how soft-spoken and sweet Adrienne actually is, although they fell in love with her when they did meet her.)
With my cell phone almost attached to my ear while I was in Indiana, my dad took note of how much I was talking to Adrienne while she was visiting her parents. He asked to speak with me one day and said he wanted me to make sure I wasn’t making the decision to date her based solely on emotions. My dad asked if I would take a break from talking to her and spend time praying and seeking the Lord about what He desired for her and me.
I told my dad I would, and when I told Adrienne about my conversation with him, she agreed we should temporarily halt the calls and committed to pray for us too.
We didn’t talk for a week. I missed talking to her, but that was a good time of prayer that affirmed what I was feeling for Adrienne. I think that week also created time for my family to deal with the reality that there was someone after Melissa. They expected that eventually I would fall in love, have another relationship, and p
robably even marry again. I was still working through my feelings of guilt, and after my announcement they’d had to start their own process of dealing with “someone else.” That week was important because it allowed me to walk through the process with my family in person rather than while we were apart.
On a lighter note, there was another benefit from our week without calling each other. A short while after Adrienne returned to the United States—about the time it takes, say, for the previous month’s cell phone bill to arrive in the mail—we realized how expensive international calls were. I had to help pay her bill of more than seven hundred dollars!
With my family prepared to meet Adrienne, I made the three-hundred-fifty-mile drive to pick her up at the Nashville airport when she returned from South Africa. We went on what we determined was our first official date—dinner at P. F. Chang’s—and I brought her back to Lafayette to introduce her to my family.
Adrienne immediately won over everyone in my family. But I don’t know who was more impressed with her—them or me. Seriously.
It’s difficult enough meeting that special someone’s parents for the first time. But it’s exponentially more difficult when all around the family’s house are photos of your special someone with his first wife.
Adrienne was amazing. I watched her not only interact with my family but also handle the Melissa situation, and I was like, Now that is a special woman of God!
She completely understood that it was a struggle for my family to see me with someone other than Melissa. Adrienne showed no hint of insecurity, and I can’t imagine many people could go into that situation and not feel at least some uneasiness.
When we talked about the visit later, Adrienne told me, “I didn’t go in there trying to replace Melissa or asking, ‘Where’s my place?’ I wanted to go and support, not replace. I didn’t want your family to feel like they had to get over Melissa. I wanted them to feel freedom to feel the emotions they were feeling.”
