We are honored by the opportunity to walk alongside you in this marriage ministry, from Yes to I Do and beyond, and we love returning to our couples' stories as they continue to unfold. If we've featured your love story in our How He Asked engagement series and you now feel called to share your wedding with us, as well, submission details can be found here.
Chelsea and Kyle’s journey to engagement took many unexpected, and sometimes difficult, turns. At one point, both faced the reality that they were at different places spiritually, and made the painful decision to part ways. Chelsea desired a husband who would share her blossoming Catholic faith--a desire Kyle couldn’t yet fulfill.
She would find out later, after a special prayer request to St. Therese of Lisieux, and over a life-changing phone call, that he joined RCIA the day after their breakup. Suddenly, Kyle was back in Chelsea’s life, and an incredible proposal was right around the corner.
In Chelsea’s Words:
Christ gave the Church the sacrament of marriage for many reasons--a primary one being that it sanctifies us. For Kyle and me, this process started the day we met in the spring of 2016.
I was a freshly re-converted Catholic figuring out what it meant to live a holy life. I had also just landed a new job, uprooted my life, and moved to a new state where I didn’t know a soul. When I met Kyle, I was not regularly-attending Mass or living in communion with the beauty, truth and goodness of the Faith.
Kyle was a Protestant who had a lot of questions about Catholicism. A lot of questions that I didn’t have answers to. But his questions fueled the desire in me to know more, so I sought out answers. As we explored our faiths’ similarities and differences, we found our lives drastically changing. Our weekends were no longer filled with bar-hopping. Instead, I found myself at Mass every Sunday, sometimes with Kyle in tow.
Over the next two years, as our love for Christ and for one another grew, we found ourselves at a crossroads. We loved each other--there was no doubt about that--and we wanted to get married. But I had this nagging feeling that I couldn’t share a marriage with someone who didn’t share my faith. The irony remained: Kyle’s love brought me closer to Christ but further from a future with him. So, in August of 2018, we broke up.
There aren’t words for the heartache I felt.
I spent the next few months in a place of great desolation. I began a daily rosary (something I had never done before), and I prayed the Litany of Divine Providence, asking my patron saint Therese of Lisieux to send me a yellow rose if Kyle and I were meant to be married. I also pursued my longing for beauty–and a hobby–and picked up a camera. All of it helped, but the heartbreak remained.
That December, I traveled to visit my brother’s monastery in Ireland, and Kyle generously offered to watch my cat while I was gone. When I returned home, I opened my apartment door to a bouquet of yellow roses on the counter--the very flower I had asked St. Therese to send me. Of course, Kyle never knew this request, and it came as both a shock and a ray of hope.
A few weeks later, Kyle called with something to tell me. He shared that he had been in RCIA since the day after we broke up, and he wanted me to come to Mass at his church for Easter. There aren’t words for the excitement I felt, for the unbelief and sheer gratitude. Kyle was converting! Still, I had questions. Did he really want to? Or was he just doing it to make me happy? He assured me, however, that it wasn’t about me.
It was now May of 2019. Kyle was a fresh convert (Praise God!) and we wasted no time in discussing engagement rings. I had no idea how he would propose or when, but I knew it’d be soon. Every trip we took, dinner we ate out, or walk we went on, I was prepared. But nothing could have prepared me for what he had planned.
The previous year, while Kyle and I were broken up, my spiritual director invited me on a pilgrimage to Mexico City to visit the Shrine of Our Lady of Guadalupe. At the time, I wasn’t in a mental space to be excited about much, and it seemed like a big investment. I loved Our Lady, but I never felt drawn to a pilgrimage. In spite of this, my spiritual director (and Our Lady) were persistent, and I eventually signed up.
It was the day before the trip, and I was standing in my closet deciding what to pack. Kyle came in and asked what I was going to wear. I thought nothing of it at the time, but he was awfully persistent that I bring nice clothes. Far nicer than the t-shirts and sneakers I had originally planned. “You’ll want to take photos and look nice for going to all the different churches,” he said. So I packed a few nicer outfits and said goodbye to Kyle for the long weekend.
The flight from Dallas was quick, and by 11AM myself and fifty of my fellow pilgrims found ourselves in downtown Mexico City. We stepped off the bus in front of the beautiful Metropolitan Cathedral. As I was taking photos and admiring the architecture, the pilgrimage leader pulled me and another pilgrim aside. She asked the two of us to go with the guide to make sure we were on the schedule for Mass at a church after lunch. Once we confirmed, we could meet everyone at the restaurant. I was more than happy to help, even though it was a bit odd.
Myself, Kien (the other pilgrim), and our guide took off into the streets of Mexico City. I was dumb-founded by the beauty of the location and tried to take it all in, but Kien and the guide were hurrying along. Dashing in and out of crowds and across cobblestone streets, I struggled to keep up. We arrived a few minutes later at the Church of San Francisco.
As we turned the corner into the courtyard in front of the stunning, old church, I pulled my camera up to my eye to snap a photo.
I saw a familiar face in my lens. It was Kyle, and he was holding a bouquet of yellow flowers! I was in shock.
Kien stood back and started taking photos, and it hit me. This was a setup.
There are few words I remember saying other than “What are you doing here!?” over and over again. Kyle gave me a kiss and told me to follow him. He sat me down on the stairs in front of the church and handed me a letter, though I’m certain I didn’t comprehend a word of it because of the adrenaline-fueled shock. Once I finished "reading" it, he escorted me into the church. There was a small altar with an image of Our Lady of Guadalupe inside to the right, and he gently brought me to the front of it. Kyle knelt in a pew and asked me to join him in saying the ‘Hail Mary,’ a prayer that was very new to him as a recent convert.
Then he escorted me toward the main altar in the church, it’s gilded intricacy enough to make any jaw hit the floor. Meanwhile, Kien was still capturing each sweet moment. We stopped at the front, where Kyle knelt down and asked me to be his wife. The ring barely fit on my finger because of the Mexico heat, but I said yes! I could barely believe what had just happened. The few people in the church clapped in excitement for us. I hadn't even realized they were there.
My adrenaline still pumping, the four of us walked back through the streets to the restaurant. This time I wasn’t paying attention to the architecture, just to the ring on my finger and my brand new fiancé.
We arrived at the restaurant, and the entire room of pilgrims erupted with claps and yells. Everyone knew! A mariachi band entered, and we toasted to our engagement. I glanced around the room once the band was gone, and an image of Our Lady of Guadalupe caught my eye. She was there through it all.
And so, we spent the rest of the weekend basking in our new engagement and the beautiful faith we now shared. We received the Eucharist together at The Shrine of Our Lady of Guadalupe, visited the Metropolitan Cathedral, explored countless other old churches, and received a priestly blessing. I spent the entire weekend thanking Our Lady for what she’d prayed with me for all those years.
We enjoyed this new milestone in the presence of many loving people, but didn’t have service to share it with anyone outside the pilgrimage. It was a lovely, protected memory between us for an entire weekend, and I never get tired of reliving it.
Our story will always remind me to persevere in prayer and to trust that Our Lord and Our Lady hear me. Not all stories have a “happy ending” like ours, but it's in the moments of uncertainty and loss that we are still called to prayer and trust.
I’ve learned that no matter what apologetic argument or convicting answer you give to someone, in the business of conversion only Grace can win souls. Having patience for grace to do it's work is one of the hardest trials to endure. But we can always strive to "Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer," Romans 12:12.
