Chicken Soup for the Soul is taking submissions for stories on Marriage. I have submitted the truly unique way my wife and I met. I would love to know what you think. Here it is:

It All Started With A Wreck
Whoever heard of a marriage that happened because of an automobile wreck?
Well… mine did.
The year was 1994. I was a young man of twenty-one, still trying to find my way in the world. I had grown up extremely poor, but by then I was finally doing all right for myself. Sure, I still lived at home with my mother, but I had a good job at the local Heilig-Meyers Furniture Store (remember them?), and my pride and joy: a brand-new little Nissan Sentra.
One rainy, foggy fall morning, as I drove to work, my whole life took a turn—literally.
I rounded a curve and suddenly saw headlights on my side of the road. Before I could even think, the other car was right there. Instinct took over. I slammed the brakes, and my Sentra went into a tailspin. I fought the wheel, but the car had a mind of its own. Spinning. Sliding. Screeching. I remember thinking, This is it. This is how I die.
My car shot through an old fence, turned sideways, and slammed into a tree with such force that the driver’s side door buckled within an inch of my body. And then—silence. I sat there dazed, staring ahead, waiting for pain that never came.
When my senses finally returned, I realized I wasn’t hurt. Not a scratch. But all those old TV shows had taught me one thing: cars could explode at any moment. So with my heart pounding, I pushed the passenger door open and stumbled out.
This was before cell phones were common, so I had to rely on the kindness of strangers to get help. Thankfully, there was a house nearby. I staggered to the door, praying the people inside would take pity on a wrecked stranger.
When the lady opened the door, I nearly fainted—not from injury, but from shock. Sitting in her living room was the sectional sofa I had sold her at Heilig-Meyers just a week before.
What were the odds?
My car was nearly totaled. If it hadn’t been practically brand new, it would’ve been a goner. It took the garage over a month to get it fixed. No one could believe I walked away unharmed.
During that whole month, I was at the mercy of my mother and my aunt for rides to and from work. They made it abundantly clear that those rides did not include taking me anywhere else.
Which meant… no church.
At first, I thought I could manage, but as the weeks went on, I felt spiritually empty. Thirsty. Weak. I desperately needed to be in my Father’s house. So I called my best friend Chris and asked if he could pick me up on Sunday. He agreed—and told me his church was hosting a youth revival that very night.
If I wanted to go?
I couldn’t say yes fast enough.
We pulled into the back parking lot of the church. 

I had no idea my entire life was about to change forever.

When I stepped out of Chris’s car, time stopped.
Literally. The world stood still. Because there she was—the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Her light brown hair shimmered in the sunlight as she played with a few small children in the parking lot. I’d seen pretty girls before, but this was different. Something inside me shifted. Something permanent.
There’s an old movie line that says when you meet the love of your life, time stops. I’m here to tell you—it’s absolutely true. And love at first sight? Also real. One look was all it took.
That night’s revival wasn’t like any revival I’d ever been to. There was no preaching—just music, food, laughter, and games. I did everything I could to impress her. In hindsight, I probably acted more like a jerk than a gentleman. I tried to win every board game like I was on a mission, determined to show her how intelligent I was. Subtlety was not my gift at twenty-one. But I learned one thing that mattered:
She was single. When Chris drove me home, I told him, point-blank, “I found the girl I’m going to marry.” I don’t think he believed me—but he was happy to drive me back and forth to church until my car was repaired.
Over the next few weeks, I got to talk to her more and more. The more I learned, the deeper I fell. She was exquisite in every way—gentle, demure, elegant, refined… yet practical, genuine, sweet, and kind. I couldn’t believe someone like her wasn’t already spoken for.
The church was buzzing with excitement because, after decades, it was about to change its name on New Year’s Day 1995. Dignitaries and overseers were attending. It was going to be a big celebration.
After the service and all the formalities, I went downstairs and found her quietly cleaning up. She was the children’s church director. Without even thinking, I jumped in to help. We cleaned together, talked, laughed—and something in me knew: Ask her. Just ask her.
My courage was trembling, my voice stammered, but I managed to get the words out:
“Would you like to go get something to eat?”
To my amazement… she said yes.
And then she suggested we take her car.
A brand-new Z-28 Camaro.
And to top it off, she tossed me the keys.
Me—the guy she first met because he wrecked his car in a ditch.
We spent hours talking and laughing. When the date ended, we shared our first kiss. From that moment on, we were a couple.
She knew immediately that I was serious about her. Dead serious. In February, the church took a trip to Heritage USA and planned to visit the ocean. I thought that would be the perfect, romantic place to propose. But before the trip, she flat-out told me not to. “It’s too soon,” she said. My heart cracked a little—but I understood. And I wasn’t discouraged. I knew I wouldn’t stop until she was my wife, no matter how long it took.
Over the next months, we grew closer. But her parents—especially her mother—were not pleased. And honestly? I didn’t blame them. I was from the wrong side of the tracks. I knew I wasn’t “good enough” for her in their eyes or even in mine. But she didn’t seem to care.
By the summer of 1996, she’d had enough tension at home and moved into a small apartment. I found a little house for us, and we bought it together, preparing it for our future—and our honeymoon.
And on August 5, 1996, in the courthouse of Somerset, Kentucky…
I finally married the woman of my dreams.
And a few years later, on December 7, 1999, our precious baby girl was born.
All because—in the rain, in the fog, on a random fall morning—a Nissan Sentra spun out of control and crashed into a tree.
Yes, our marriage started with a wreck.
And it turned into the biggest blessing of my life.