I Still Believe
Page 15
Adrienne and my mom especially hit it off. During one of their trips to the grocery store, my mom shared at great length what we all had gone through with Melissa as a family, and how much Melissa had meant to all of us. My mom told me later that as she talked about Melissa, she could see deep compassion in Adrienne’s eyes. By the end of their conversation, they were crying with each other.
You would have thought Adrienne had been part of our family for years. We all sat up late and talked, and there were some nights when the rest of us went to bed and left my mom and Adrienne talking at the kitchen table, where they would stay until three or four o’clock in the morning.
One time when I was alone with my parents, I let them know how serious I was about Adrienne. “She really is the one for me,” I told them. That didn’t go over too well. It was particularly hard for my mom to hear, and also for my sister when she found out what I had said. Their reservations had nothing to do with Adrienne but with the fact that they were still working through their own grieving processes over Melissa.
They didn’t let on to Adrienne about their feelings, and I think the way that she talked openly and with admiration about Melissa helped them more easily accept that Adrienne and I were headed down the relationship path.
CHAPTER 15
ALL ABOUT GOD
After Adrienne’s visit with my parents, we went back on the road with our respective bands. For me, that meant a new experience.
My band had toured with a bunch of other musicians during Festival Con Dios, and I’d had the good fortune of traveling by bus. It also was a relatively short tour, to forty cities.
In 2003, though, the schedule included about 220 dates with three hundred days on the road. And instead of a bus, we traveled by van with a trailer in tow. Part of the time, my band consisted of only me and drummer Leif Skartland, and we opened for Bebo Norman. Leif, by the way, started out with our band just before Festival Con Dios and still is my drummer.
After touring with Bebo, we had a four-person band, and I bought our first touring van—a Chevy Mark III that had a bed in the back where we took turns sleeping, as we sometimes drove overnight to get to the next show. I also performed concerts with Jars of Clay, and I took part in the Ichthus Music Festival in Kentucky that my family had attended when I was young.
That first full year of touring was a good introduction to the not-so-glamorous side of music. Once, we drove all the way from Southern California to eastern Canada to play in a show—and the promoter never paid us.
It’s a tough, tough business, and most people would be shocked to hear how many acts struggle to stay out of debt. New artists like I was feel the need to play just about anywhere to get their names out there, build up a following, and sell enough records to keep their labels happy and interested in re-signing them when their contracts expire.
I’ve joked that in my first full year out on the road, I played in small, dingy barns. I didn’t, but I would have if a farmer would have invited me and told me he had enough outlets to plug in all our extension cords.
I remember concerts with thirty to fifty people in the audience. It’s no exaggeration to say I was stoked when I could look out before a concert and see one hundred fifty in attendance. One night, we actually had six hundred people show up, and I was crazy shocked.
During one of our trips, my wallet was stolen. The next time I was home in California, I went to the Department of Motor Vehicles office to get a new driver’s license. I was hurriedly walking toward the entrance, talking to Adrienne on my cell phone, when a young guy who looked like he might be homeless came up to me and said, “Hey, man, you got some money?”
Not wanting to be slowed down or distracted, I said, “No, sorry, man,” and continued my conversation as I went into the DMV. Inside, as I waited to get my license replaced, I began to feel bad about how I had brushed off the guy and prayed, Lord, give me an opportunity to see that guy again.
After I finished at the DMV, I drove to a nearby In-N-Out Burger. Outside the restaurant, I saw the same guy. I couldn’t believe it. I was so excited that God had given me another opportunity—I wasn’t going to miss this one.
I walked up to him and said. “Hey, man, come on inside, and I’ll buy you some lunch.”
After we ordered and sat down, I prayed for our meal and asked him to tell me his story.
His name was David, and he was, indeed, homeless. He said he was a heroin addict and an alcoholic. His wife had told him to leave their house, and he had been living underneath a bridge for a while.
After telling me his story, he began asking questions about me. One was what my job was.
“I play Christian music,” I told him.
He asked my name again.
“Jeremy,” I answered.
“Not Camp?” he asked.
I nodded. I was surprised he knew who I was.
David told me that before leaving his home, a friend had given him my first CD. As we ate, we talked about the Lord, my music, and our stories. When we were wrapping up, I felt strongly that I should really encourage David.
“God’s going to restore your marriage,” I told him. “I want you to be encouraged. He’s brought me into your life at this moment for a reason.”
We prayed. I gave David all the money I had in my wallet—twenty-six dollars—and gave him my cell phone number. I told him to call me if he needed anything and asked that he call me sometime to let me know how he was doing.
About eight years later, I received an e-mail from a woman introducing herself as the wife of a drug addict homeless man I had met at an In-N-Out a long time before. She asked if I remembered the meeting, which I did. The woman said David was clean now and that they were back together. Then she said she e-mailed because she wanted to surprise her husband by arranging for him to see me again and asked if I could help make that happen.
I was all over that opportunity, and we arranged a meeting. It turned out that David’s marriage had been completely restored by God, he and his wife were doing great, and they had a son, whom I also met. It was an incredible reunion, and it made me so thankful that the Holy Spirit had granted me a second chance after I had brushed David off outside the DMV.
That’s one of my favorite examples of the importance of finding some way to reach out when the Holy Spirit prompts us to help someone. We never know the fruit that can come out of our obedience. It also made me realize that if my wallet had not been stolen, I might not have met David. That gave me a new perspective on the importance of remembering that when we go through frustrating times, God might be at work and that He can turn negative situations into testimonies for His glory.
POPPING THE QUESTION
Adrienne and I needed to keep recharging our cell phone batteries because phone calls remained our primary mode of communication. On the rare days when one of us was free and in relatively close proximity to the other, we’d drive several hours to see each other.
Our relationship had a few ups and downs. They weren’t anything different from what most couples go through in a relationship, but we prayed about them together as well as on our own, and we worked our way through them by talking openly and honestly. Having those talks affirmed to both of us that we were serious about our relationship, and we came out of that time stronger in our love for each other.
Each spring, the Gospel Music Association held what was known as GMA Week. It was a huge conference for the gospel music industry, with just about anybody who was anybody in Christian music showing up. The GMA Dove Awards ceremony was the marquee event of the week.
Because I would be in Nashville for GMA Week, I was going to get to see Adrienne. And because I was going to get to see Adrienne, I took a nice ring along with me.
That was a very busy week for me because I did a lot of media interviews due to my being labeled an “up and coming” artist. I also had a number of activities related to promotion and marketing. Adrienne was busy too, so we didn’t get to see much of each other.
The Benjamin Gate had been nominated for a Dove Award—for Modern Rock/Alternative Album of the Year—but Adrienne didn’t expect her band to win. So I suggested we go out to eat during the Dove Awards. Then she asked if we could dress up for dinner anyway, even though we wouldn’t be going to the Doves.
Dinner? Dressed up? Sounded like a good time to propose.
I made a reservation and a few arrangements at Park Café and picked Adrienne up. We were both exhausted from the hectic week, but on the way to the restaurant it seemed like we took on an “exhausted peace” as we listened to worship music and talked over all the things that had happened that week.
The restaurant had reserved us a window table in an area with only one other table nearby. It was the perfect quiet place to catch up and, more important, for the top item on my dinner agenda.
I was trying to play it cool, but I was nervous and probably acting a little giddy, too. We ordered our dinner and continued our conversation from the car. I was excited and having trouble hiding it.
I told Adrienne I needed to go to the restroom, but instead I took the engagement ring to a member of the restaurant staff for my big surprise coming later.
The food came, and we ate a delicious meal. Afterward, the waiter brought us small decorative boxes that looked like they could have had chocolates or some other treat in them. Adrienne’s ring was inside her box. But she didn’t open the box! We kept talking, and I kept waiting on her to reach for it. (Plus, I wanted to make sure the person I had handed the ring to hadn’t studied the ring, decided to quit his job on the spot, and headed for a pawn shop.)
I had hidden a small CD player under the table, and as I wondered whether Adrienne was going to open her box, I reached under the table and started fidgeting with the player. Adrienne looked at me kind of funny, and I unsuccessfully tried to act like the commotion with my leg under the table was normal.
Finally, I just picked up the CD player so I could see the buttons and started playing the song “Here I Am to Worship.” Adrienne had told me on several occasions that she wanted to walk down the aisle to that song.
With her song playing, I stood up, walked around to her side of the table, picked up her box, opened it, and pulled out the ring. I then dropped to a knee and asked, “Will you marry me?”
“Yes!” Adrienne said.
By that point, the couple at the table near us had stopped their conversation to watch. “Oh my goodness!” one of them said when I dropped on my knee, and after Adrienne accepted, they congratulated us.
We left the restaurant, and for at least the next thirty minutes, we both called our families and closest friends to deliver the news. And then to celebrate? Well, we went our separate ways again. I hit the road that night to resume touring, and it was about a month until the next time I saw my fiancée.
BREAKING UP (BUT NOT US)
Our engagement signaled the official end of Adrienne’s run with The Benjamin Gate. Back when she had returned to South Africa for Christmas, she was not happy with how things were going with the band, especially spiritually. She asked her family and friends at home to pray with her about the band’s future.
When Adrienne came back to the States, she met with the other members of TBG to end the band. With the obvious direction our relationship was headed, the band members decided to wait until we had become engaged so that their breakup could become a positive “moving on.”
That was a stressful time for Adrienne. She had not been an original member of the band, so it had existed without her, and the group’s name wasn’t “Adrienne Liesching and The Benjamin Gate.” But in any band, the lead singer carries the most prominent role. Adrienne was concerned that her leaving could end the musical careers of the other members, and she loved performing and being around the guys.
All of them were from South Africa, and The Benjamin Gate was pretty much all they had in the United States. Each of the guys in the band had sacrificed so much to try to make a go of it here together, and replacing the lead singer would have required starting over in many respects. Adrienne didn’t think the other members would want to go through that process again.
It was a difficult conversation for Adrienne to start, and understandably, there was a bit of a negative reaction at first. But very shortly it became a mutual decision for the band to end, and Adrienne agreed to stay on for nine more months to play out the schedule so they wouldn’t walk away in debt.
After we became engaged, it was announced that The Benjamin Gate would disband, and Adrienne and the guys continued to play into September.
WEDDING PLANS
Adrienne and I were able to see each other a few times, but not nearly enough for our preferences. Adrienne went to visit my family a couple of times without me, even going to Lafayette in July to celebrate her birthday with them. She would tell me how everyone had already made her a part of the family and how my parents were the most incredible Christians she had ever met. She admired their relationships with the Lord and picked their brains about how they maintained their close walk with Him after Melissa went to heaven.
Adrienne loved getting to know my mother’s heart. They quickly grew especially close, and my mom became like a mentor to Adrienne. Imagine how cool it must have been for a mother to mentor the young woman her son was going to marry.
My dad cracked Adrienne up. He was fascinated with the differences between the United States and Adrienne’s home country, except he kept getting South Africa and Australia mixed up.
At first when my dad asked questions about “Australia,” Adrienne gave the best answer she could because she had an uncle who lived there. When she figured out that my dad actually intended to ask about South Africa, she started giving answers based on what her uncle had told about living in Australia, then sweetly saying, “But in South Africa, where I live . . .”
We had set a December wedding date in South Africa, and Adrienne had booked a church and taken care of just about all the arrangements. But about three months before the wedding, Adrienne learned of potential complications with her visa because of the breakup of The Benjamin Gate and our pending marriage. She was advised that if she was quizzed about her status while leaving South Africa, she could lie and return to the United States without a problem. There was no way we were going to lie, though, so we had to move our wedding to the States.
Adrienne was able to quickly make all the changes for moving the wedding except for one thing. South Africa’s seasons are the opposite of here, so the friend who made her dress had made it for South Africa’s warm weather. So Adrienne would have to get married in Indiana in December in a dress with very short sleeves.
When Adrienne’s time with The Benjamin Gate ended in September, she needed a place to stay, so she moved into my parents’ house and lived in an extra bedroom. At least that gave her a chance to work on wedding details with my mom, so they were able to share that experience.
My parents cleaned out a place in the basement that became Adrienne’s wedding headquarters. There she could work on decorations and invitations. Adrienne made every invitation by hand—somewhere between one hundred fifty and two hundred of them. She began making them while she was still traveling with her band. When it wasn’t her turn to drive, she sat in her seat and wrote out invitations. Preparing for the wedding and our future helped take her mind off the impending breakup of TBG.
One day, after she had moved into my parents’ home, my parents were looking through family pictures and came across some of me with Melissa. My dad got up from his seat, walked over to Adrienne, and gave her a big hug. “I just want you to know,” he told her, “that we love Melissa. But she’s with Jesus now, and you’re here, and we do see you as a part of the family.”
My dad also told her, “God has selected you to be a tool to help heal my son. You’re part of the healing plan for Jeremy.”
&n
bsp; Another time, right before the wedding, my mom talked to Adrienne about a wedding photo of Melissa and me that was displayed in the hutch in our family room. “I don’t know why it is so hard for me to take that down right now, but I want you to know that I’ll take it down before your family gets here.”
Adrienne completely understood and told my mom there was no rush. Even telling the story now makes it sound like that could have been an awkward moment, but it wasn’t, because of the way both my mom and Adrienne were sensitive to each other’s feelings.
I didn’t meet Adrienne’s parents, Rory and Wendy, until they came to Indiana for the wedding, but there is an interesting story about my asking for her father’s blessing to propose.
As a teenager, Adrienne had told her dad that if he didn’t approve of who she wanted to marry, she wouldn’t marry him. Her dad seriously struggled with the thought of giving the nod to someone he had never met, even though he thought I sounded okay on the phone, liked what Adrienne had told him about me, and could see that she was happy. Still, without having talked with me in person, he wondered how he could give his approval of the marriage, until one day he sensed God telling him, You don’t have to—I already have.
When I placed “the call” to her dad, I was nervous and stammered around a little.
“Are you asking for my daughter’s hand?” her dad asked.
“Yes,” I answered.
“Even though I’ve never met you,” he said, “and I always thought I’d meet all my kids’ spouses before they married, I see how Adrienne has grown, and I see her joy when I hear her talk about you.”
Whoa! I thought. That’s pretty rad!
To make sure we got the timing right, we waited a little while after we became engaged to let Melissa’s family know I was getting married again. Later, Adrienne mailed them an invitation.