This is a story of God at work against all odds, to bring a man and woman together.  That man was a Correctional Officer in the State of Maryland.  He was diligently praying for a good wife. The woman was a beautiful, young woman, who lived in Arkansas.  One thousand miles away from the man.She too was in prayer for a good loving husband.  The chances of these two meeting, let alone joining lives, was extremely remote. Here is my story:  In 1979, I had suddenly been placed into the roll of 'Single Parent'.  Many times from that point I prayed to God asking Him to provide me with a good wife.  I only wanted a wife who liked children;  a woman who would love God more than me and want our children to grow to be God-fearing young people. All seemed bleak and seemingly impossible since I had four children, 4-9 and I knew that there were so few young women who would be willing to accept them.  It all seemed hopeless for me.  He would definitely have to provide her for me since I have always been quite backward and shy when dating. I also stressed to Him the importance of my need for a mate; that I feel I cannot go through life alone. I didn't think I was asking for too much.  Later, after an eternity (in 1980), I had a dream.  It went as follows: I was at what appeared to be an ancient Israeli city.  I knew that I must get a particular woman and rush her out of the city.  This was a command in my mind.  Though I had no impression or idea of what this woman would look like, I obediently went into the city to find her.  I looked in each courtyard and building and, though I found many people, I could not find this particular woman. I continued my search which led me to a rather large courtyard.  As I peered in, I saw many people there, all of whom were facing away from me.  They were all talking and mingling.  My spirit was quickened to a woman who was standing among them.  Of course, she too was facing away from me.  I couldn't see even see her hands and her head was covered by a veil. But I was positive that this was the woman. Willingly she came with me, down the street and out of the city.  We kept going over a hill. The dream then changes: I find that we are in modern times.  I am standing by her side.  Our arms are around each other.  I still do not know what she looks like since she was wearing a sort of shaw over her head.  Plus, our attention was mainly on my personal belongings which were lined up along the hillside.  I told her, "This is all I have to offer you, except for my love." "That's all I ever wanted," she answered, and as she turned and looked up to me, I could still see no distinguishable facial features. I then awakened and as I lay there thinking about how wonderfully vivid this dream was, I decided that it had to come from God. "Lord," I prayed, "If this is from you, tell me what all this means." Suddenly, I heard a relatively deep but very compassionate voice saying, "If you do my will and my commands, I will give you a woman perfect to be your wife." "Perfect?"  "Wife?" I asked myself.  Not at all.  But she would be perfect to be my wife.  In other words, she would be just right for me.  He had someone already picked out for me.  And she'd be good for me. I couldn't wait.  I anticipated the day that we would meet.  I wondered how it would all come to pass.  I knew that God works in mysterious ways, but how mysterious could it be for a meeting between two people. I remember that I was so excited that I went to work and told my co-workers that I was getting married.  When they asked who she was, I had to tell them that I didn't know when, where, or even to whom, but I was definitely getting married. They all laughed, but I was speaking it as though it was already absolute (Romans 4:17b). What seemed like a lifetime later in 1989, I was working as an officer for the State Division of Corrections.  On this particular day, my post was in Tower #3 in the rear of the jail.  It was the old tower.  It didn't even have a catwalk. Working in a tower is tremendously boring so to help pass the time, I began reading the old local newspapers.  Then I moved to the hunting and fishing magazines then on to anything else I could find.  I spent the rest of my day re-reading most of this. Finally, in near fatal boredom, I pulled out one of those weekly gossip tabloids, non of which I had read to this point.  I hadn't looked at one of those for nearly twenty years.  I wondered what kind of junk they were putting in them anymore.  As I leafed through one, I found that the basic articles were still the same but the names and places were changed.  I also found, on the last page, a "find-a-friend club".  I'd heard about all the heartaches and troubles which have come from those things, so I just put the paper up. My eyes kept returning to that paper.  I kept seeing it.  I'd pick it up and look at the last page again, then put it back.  This happened several times.  Finally, I wrote down all the pertinent information and stuffed into my shirt pocket with all my other notes and papers. Each day, I would take all that stuff from my shirt pocket and put it in my clean shirt pocket.  This would go on for many days until my pocket weighed about five pounds.  Then I would get everything out and sort through it and disperse it appropriately.  At this time, I apparently laid my information on my desk. After several months I finally wrote my ad.  In it I said that I wished to correspond with "...a young lady who believes and lives 1 Corinthians 13:4-8a..."  I figured this would thin out some of the respondents.  This would tell them a little about me, too.  When I finished, I had 25 words which was the limit without paying a lot more. This ad was placed in a stamped envelope and laid on my desk which was where it laid for several months.  Needless to say, I was very apprehensive about this because I had known there could be many problems and I was sure that God just never works like this. In 1989, God heard a quiet cry for His help.  A 26 year old woman in Mountain Home, Arkansas was praying for a good and God-fearing husband who would love her and be there for her, and help her through those hard times in life. I imagine that He turned to Jesus saying, "Son, do you hear that?" "Yes, Father, I do," Jesus answered, "I've been watching her.  She's been in a pretty sad condition.  Her life was filled with oppression and was feeling nothing but hopelessness since she was a little girl."  When she was 4 years old her mother came home to us and her dad soon married a domineering woman who was very hard on her.  Yes, Father, I was expecting her to call on us soon.  From the time she moved out on her own last year, I knew that she would be needing a future which would be secure, stable and enjoyable.  A future where she would be loved and not controlled.  I was just waiting for her to realize that You were here to help her.  Then she would exercise her faith, seek You and ask for a mate.  (Matthew 17:20; Luke 17:6; Matthew 7:7). "I understand, Son," He said compassionately, "I've been watching her for some time now and I knew that she wouldn't be able to take much more of the loneliness, and the harassment that some were putting her through.  I was just about ready to help here by giving her the way out of her trying times (1 Corinthians 10:13; 1 Peter 5:10).  There's this fellow over here in Maryland whom I think will fill her needs.  You know him...  Joseph Snurr."  (This made up but possible conversation is to be continued in a moment). By this time it is approximately March 1990, and my daughter, Krista, came to me saying that she was going to the Post Office and asked if I wanted the letter on my desk mailed. Not thinking about the ad, I asked, "Does it have a stamp on it?" She said yes, so I told her I supposed that it should be mailed, and out the door she went. Later, in the day I got to thinking about that letter that had gone to the Post Office.  I didn't recall any bills that was to be paid.  I looked on the desk and found no letter there.  I suddenly realized that my envelope containing my ad was gone. Immediately, I prayed.  "Jesus,,, I trust that this is you working this out for me.  If it is You, I will absolutely know it beyond a shadow of a doubt, and I believed that it would happed relatively soon." Meanwhile, back to the conversation in Heaven. "OK, Father, but how are we going to get him out of the prison he's working in?  You know he gets comfortable in life then wants to stay there," He reminded, "Remember how, at times, in the past, we've had to prod him and practically set fires under him to get him to move for us?" "Yes, Son, but I've already been working there.  First, he's my child and his superiors want to get rid of him anyway," He said concerning His plans, "I just need to allow for one last thing...  Then he will go.  Watch." Just then in the prison, just twenty feet from me, a fight breaks out between two inmates.  One had a shank (homemade knife) and was stabbing at the other's face.  As I called for assistance, the two inmates started down the steps still fighting.  Another officer entered the stairs from the floor below and came up, while I went down from above.  On the landing, each officer grabbed an inmate in an attempt to subdue them.  From behind, I reached with my left hand, around the left side of the one inmate's neck, placing my left hand on the inmate's right shoulder, and pulled the inmate back from the other with everything I had. I fell back on the stairs with the full weight of the inmate falling with me, and on me.  Pain radiated from the small of my back at the same place where I had previously injured it and had it operated on.  Now understand that God does not cause this sort of thing but He will allow *satan to do it (Job 1:6-12;  2:1-7a). Both of these back injuries occurred in the prison.  A little over six months later, prison officials, including the State Medical Examiner decided that it would be too great a risk to be allowed to continue working in the prison.  The Dr said that I had a chronic back condition and would probably have more problems not to mention the extra cost to the state. Meanwhile back with the Postal Service, it was about May 1990 and I began receiving letters. I got one from a dear girl from Baltimore, Maryland.  At first, things seemed so sweet in her letters, "But," I supposed, "I guess she's not the one for me." Then there was a rather pretty lady from just outside Chicago whom I felt uncomfortable about.  Eventually, after three or four letters, she stopped writing. There was a woman from Mississippi who began writing.  She was that daughter of a minister which sounded fine to me.  She was a very nice girl who had a fine sense of humor.  To this day she is a very dear friend to my wife and me.  She eventually moved to Williamsport, Maryland (where I was living at the time) in early 1990, about three or four months before I moved to Arkansas. Then on August 12, 1990, I received a letter which had a Mountain Home, AR. postmark.  My first though was, "A southern bell...  with a southern accent."  I opened the letter and read with anticipation.  When I had finished, I read it again.  I read it three times in all. At the time, I was staying in the home of my dear friends Gary and Vonnie.  Gary was a fishing partner and Vonnie was like a sister to me.  I looked up from the sofa toward Vonnie and she asked, "Well?!?"  I just handed her the letter and allowed her to read it.  Apparently she felt the same thing I did.  "Well, HELLO ARKANSAS!!" she exclaimed with a grin. I read the letter some more.  I felt an overwhelming sense of honesty, sincerity and sweetness coming from the words which I had read.  I had real peace.  She even attended a church that believed the way I do.  She was even self-employed.  She worked as a housekeeper for fifteen people. In time I discovered that she truly loved the Lord.  She believed in the power of prayer. She prayed and asked others for prayer.  I was so pleased with this.  What was that name?  Teresa...  That's a lovely name...  Teresa Vass. In our first several letters we exchanged our photographs.  With her pictures, she wrote, "These pictures don't do me justice."  As I looked at them, I was thinking that she was a very beautiful woman. After many weeks of writing, I decided to see if she had a phone.  I called information who said, "I don't have a Teresa, but there's a T Vass here."  (Vass was her maiden name) Excitedly, I said, "Gimme that one!"  I wrote it down, '4-2-4-2-4-2-9'.  That couldn't be any easier to remember.  I waited till 9 p.m. eastern time (it was 8, her time), and I called the number...   4...  2...  4...  2...  4...  2... (pause)....  9.... I dialed that last number very hesitantly.  It rang, again and again.  As I was about to hang up, I heard a click and a groggy sounding, "hello?" "Is Teresa Vass there," I asked apprehensively. "Huh?  What?  I don't know," said the voice on the other end. Embarrassed that I must have awakened somebody that I don't know, I apologized for my untimely intrusion and I hung up. In the very next letter which I received from Arkansas, Teresa had written that I could call her if I wanted.  Her number?  It was 4-2-4-2-4-2-9..... I couldn't tell her what I had done for several weeks.  But when I did, she told me that she had been working hard and had been very tired in the evenings.  We concluded that she must answered the phone in her sleep.  We still laugh over this memory. I recall one conversation, where right in the middle of the call, she excitedly tells me, "Hold on a minute.  I've got to let the neighbors know I'm cooking."  Then I got nothing but silence except some noises in the background.  A minute later she returned and started right back in the conversation we were in, and with not one bit of explanation. A bit later, she apparently realized that I was not totally with her.  My mind was reeling, trying to figure out what she was talking about.  "Are you still there?" she asked. "Yes," I said hesitantly, "What did you mean you had to let the neighbors know that you're cooking." "Well," she explained non-stop, "I was cooking and it started to burn and the kitchen and living room got filled with smoke so I had to open the living room door and now the smoke is going outside and the neighbors can see it and they know I'm cooking!"  I could hardly control my laughter. I found out that she was pretty smart, too.  We began making phone calls on a regular basis which ran up our phone bills drastically. Her first bill had about $100 in long distance calls to me.  My first bill was about $200 but it quickly increased to $300. She got smart fast.  When she would call me, I would barely say 'hello' when she would quickly say, "Hi!  Call me right back!"  Then a loud "CLICK!"  She didn't even give me a chance to ask her why.  It became an instant habit of hers. Well, needless to say, I decided to take a three week vacation to find out if she was $300 per month.  So, I proceeded to make plans to visit her in Mountain Home, AR. in April 1991. At about the first of March, I was realizing that I was falling in love with this voice on the phone.  Keep in mind that I knew by this time that God was involved and was pulling us together.  I decided to send Teresa a two part letter and a ring.  The first part of the letter was normal except that it was written on adding machine paper and rolled up.  The second part of the letter, also rolled up, described the ring and what I felt each part of it meant.  It was dainty and made of gold which is a precious metal - Teresa had become precious to me.  The band split apart on each side.  Each side of the part came together to form heart on each side - two hearts joined solidly together by one band, God.  Where the top of the arches of one heart would touch those of the other, there were three stones.  There were two rubies and one diamond in the middle - Two lives, covered by the blood of Christ, with God holding them together in the middle. The letters and the ring were placed in a cylindrical container where she would open the first part of the letter which she would have to unroll on the floor.  Her cat, Malachi, had fun playing with the paper.  Then she would retrieve the ring which was in a case, then the explanation part of the letter which she also would have to unroll.  When the appointed time arrived, I packed up my little Olds Starfire (ol' Blue) and began my trek toward Arkansas.  It seemed like it would take forever.  The further I traveled more excited I got.  Kentucky might as well have been Canada because it seemed just as long to drive. I kept thinking about her.  Would she really be the sweet, caring, and beautiful person I thought she was.  When I got to Lexington, Kentucky, I figured it was about half-way so I called her to let her know that I was OK, and where I was. I wanted to get there so bad that I only stopped occasionally at rest stops and once along the road for a little rest.  Twenty-three hours later, on a Thursday at 7 a.m., I arrived in Mountain Home, AR.  I drove through the small town I was amazed at how friendly the people were.  They would give a big smile and throw up their hand.  I didn't even know them. Well, I decided to call her and let her know that I was in town.  As I was looking for a telephone, I passed her mobile home which I recognized from the photographs which she had sent me.  When I realized that it was her place, I nearly gave myself whiplash when I swung my head around at the speed of light. I called and when she answered the phone she informed me that she was to work in the morning and would meet me at 12:30 p.m.  I told her that I would get a motel room and settle in a bit. I began to get stir crazy at 8 a.m. but I waited.  Finally, at about 9:30, after deciding I couldn't take it anymore, I decided to drive around town just to see what the place was like. At 12:15, I went back to her house to see if she had returned yet, but she wasn't home.  I had sent her photos of my rather unique car so that she would quickly recognize me when she would see me.  Maybe she did see me.  Maybe she didn't like what she saw.  Maybe she though my nose was too big! That old devil tried to convince me that she had seen me and really didn't care (John 8:44).  He tried to discourage me from holding in there and receiving God's wonderful gift to me. Ol' Blue was easy to recognize.  It was a royal blue 1978 Olds Starfire which had mag wheels and two 4 and-a-half inch wide rally stripes which wrapped up around the back where the tail lights were incorporated in them.  The tail lights were no longer the norm, but rather, they consisted of three two inch round lights on each side. It sat up in the back where the bumper was about 20-22 inches from the ground and it had wide tires.  The inside was also customized.  The back was no longer open but closed in to make a trunk.  There was no back seat except for one small jump seat behind the driver.  The dash panel had black fuzz and the rest of the interior was redone in white sheep skin fuzz. So I pulled away and decided I would go and see where she attendeded church.  It was located across town so by the time I would get back, she should be home.  I could even take different streets and learn more about this little town.  On my way, I went up one street and down another.  Once or twice I would turn around and go the other way. As I arrive at the church, I notice that there is a drive through.  I drove in under the canopy, and out toward the parking lot, where you could go back to the road.  I turned into the driveway and under the canopy where I stopped for a moment to think of the purpose of this building.  It was there for the purpose of the children of God to come together and worship the Most High God. As I pulled forward to go back out to the road, a car suddenly appeared in front of me, blocking me in.  There were two women in the car and my first thought was that they were escapees from the local asylum.  They were laughing hysterically and pointing at me.  One was laughing so hard that she was slapping the dash panel. Since I didn't want to be the recipient of an attack from two crazy women, I decided to go out the other way.  So I did...  but while I was backing through the drive-through I noticed that were also turning around.  I tried to hurry so I could get out ahead of them.  It was then I realized that I didn't alter one particular thing in my car...  The motor.  It was only a little four cylinder.  I thought about it too late anyway.  So, as I came from under the canopy, they swerved into that end of the driveway and blocked me again. This time I felt very strongly that they needed hands laid on them...  so I decided that I would talk to them.  Maybe they needed deliverance.  Never-the-less, the only comments coming to my mind was, "I didn't do what they thought I did,"  "I am not from here so you can't know me,"  "Would you like me to take you back to the asylum, or maybe call your psychologist?" Hesitantly, I wind down my window to talk to two frenzied females.  Maybe I could find out what their 'major malfunction' was.  This was when I realized that they were cute.  Especially the passenger.  She was absolutely gorgeous.  "Some luck," I thought to myself, "I'm here to meet with Teresa and I meet up with the woman of my dreams.  If I wasn't here to see Teresa, I would ask her out. Meanwhile, the drastic woman driver wound down her window.  They were still laughing.  She called to me.  "Joe?"  she said, still giggling. "This is Teresa! After chatting a bit, we decided that we would all meet back at Teresa's trailer. After pulling into her driveway, I nervously struggled to get out of my car.  The door didn't want to open.  When it did open, I got out and seeing her standing beside her friend's car, I promptly stumbled over a small stump and nearly fell over.  "See, I'm fallin' for ya," I mumbled. We had a wonderful day together.  We visited the Norfork Dam and some other places which I couldn't even remember by evening when we met at her friend's house for dinner.  Teresa appreciated that since she didn't want to treat me like a God yet...  you know, by giving me burnt offerings for supper. She had little training when it came to cooking.  She could burn anything for supper.  She's burned everything from meat to water to soup.  I recall one day after moving to Cotter, she came into the den holding a chicken by the drumstick and what looked like a plastic bag in the other hand.  The sight looked humorous.  Not knowing what to expect from what I was seeing, I chuckled and asked, "What do you need, Babe?" "I was going to cook this chicken and this bag fell out." she explained "Should I throw it away?" "No!" I said quickly, "That's the best part.  It's the heart, neck, and liver."  Then just to see what would happen, I said, "Maybe you should see if there's anything else in there." She took a drumstick in each hand, pulled them apart, raised it to her face and peered into the backside of the bird.  "I don't see anything else in here," she said... I just about 'bust a gut'. Come to think of it, those first couple of days in Mountain Home, we ate at her friend's house, spent some time with her friend's mother, ate at the home of another friend Beth, and her mother Glenda.  Then we ate at the associate pastor's house where their daughter and son-in-law were also.  With each new bunch of folks came a new battery of questions. I later discovered that these people were all very dear friends of Teresa and they love her so much that they didn't want her to get into a situation that she couldn't handle.  They wanted to be sure that they could trust me as someone who would be good for her.  They talked to me and asked questions and...  well, actually, they gave me the third degree, but it was for Teresa.  They were protecting her and I appreciated that. I stayed at a motel until the next Tuesday morning.  After I took Teresa to work, I loaded my luggage in my car, got behind the wheel and prayed.  "Lord," I said, "If you really want me to stay here, You give me a place to live."  By five o'clock, I had two places to choose from. In the Morning, I found a nice two bedroom trailer for which I paid the first month's rent and security deposit and I was prepared to move in that evening. In the after noon, Teresa and I sat chatting with her land-lady who told us that she would rent me the older but sufficient trailer in front of which we were standing.  I decided that since it was much closer to Teresa's place, I would take it too.  Now this decision brought about another situation. "Lord," I prayed, "I'm going to be pretty short of money if I can't get my security deposit and first month's rent back from the first land-lord.  Help me with this."  I believed that God could do whatever He wanted in this.  I trusted that since He wanted me here, He wasn't going to let me go without finances. In church Wednesday evening, there were those who were unwittingly attempting to sew doubt by telling me that I was going to see no refund from the first land-lord.  They knew the man better than I, but still, I knew that God would not leave me with out money to live on.  He was Jehovah Jireh (the God who provides).  He would provide for me one way or another. On Wednesday, I took Teresa to a restaurant, as I had been since I was quickly learning about her unique means of cooking).  We had lunch at Nettie's Cafeteria.  As we sat there, I took her by the hand and asked her if she would marry me and she said yes. Then she looked around at the people sitting at the other tables.  When I asked her what she was looking for, she said she felt like everyone was looking at us and she just had to check to be sure. Thursday, I went to see the land-lord of the first house who was a doctor.  I explained why I was changing my mind and asked if he would see fit to refund at least a part of the money since I hadn't been there except to look at it.  I know God was involved on the doctor's end because without hesitation, he turned to his secretary, and told her to write us a check for the full amount except for the equivalent of the two days rent.  I felt that was more than air. God took care of that entire situation! We eventually made arrangements to be married on the 9th of August in 1991.  I was told that some of the people from the church were going to have a shiveree for us.  I had never heard that term before, so I wanted to find out what it was.  A man from the church with whom I worked, told me that a shiveree was where people would 'come and go' all through the wedding night.  They would have a night long party and not let the newlyweds sleep.  I began to think of ways to prevent this. When I told them we were planning to go camping, they were bothered that we wouldn't tell them where we were going.  I was told that they would just follow us and be there anyway. On the Wedding Day, as with about any wedding, we had several things that had gone wrong. The first thing was that Teresa had left the rings at her house.  They had to go back for them with only minutes to spare. During the ceremony, everything had gone beautifully...  until Teresa couldn't get my ring on, because for some reason my finger was a bit enlarged.  As the ceremony continued, I am attempting to slip the ring on while letting no one know what was happening. Then as we were doing the candle part of the ceremony, she nearly set her veil on fire.  This is the part of the wedding when each of us were supposed to take one of the lit candles and together, light the candle in the center.  Then we would blow out the candles which we held and place them back into the candelabra. As it were, I blew out my candle and placed it back into the holder.  I looked to Teresa, and almost chuckled when I saw her blowing furiously at the flame, but it defiantly flickered on.  She kept moving it closer to her face, which of course was also closer to her veil;  And her veil was not held out too far. I thought that she was going to set her veil on fire.  Since I didn't want her to do an imitation of a match, I took the candle from her, blew it out, then placed it in the holder.  I know that some women can be hot heads, but I didn't want that from Teresa. The candle thing signifies that the individuals willingly give up their single life and cleave to the mate, therefore becoming one in marriage. Not in OUR ceremony.  Ours looked like I was giving up being single...  and I gently and tenderly took the hand of my lovely Teresa, the one I love dearly...  And YANKED her into my life through the marriage. Afterward, we jumped into the car with the Best Man and Teresa's Matron of Honor, and rode around town.  I recall that during our ride, we saw people standing on the town square and apparently talking.  "Did you see that?!?  There was a girl back there crying hysterically," I exclaimed. "Where," she asked, "I wonder what was wrong?" "She saw ol' Blue," I answered, "and realized that I just got married and I'm not available anymore." Everyone got a laugh out of that. As we drove home after the ceremony, I thought about the shiveree.  I told Teresa that it was too late to go on our Honeymoon (or should that be money moon) and maybe we should just spent the night at home. "But what about the guys and the shiveree?" she asked. I knew how to take care of this.  When we were about ready to turn the lights out for the night, I moved the car from the driveway.  I backed it in behind the trailer across the drive.  You couldn't see it unless you would go back there since there were bushes which blocked the view of the car. Some time later, Teresa told me of another miraculous thing concerning our relationship.  She said that after praying for a good husband, she had gone to sleep.  During the sleep, the Lord had given her a dream where He showed her an image of a man who would be her husband.  She told me that the first photo I sent her (which was after her dream) was the image which she saw. There are so many ways that Teresa and I thoroughly compliment each other.  Too many ways to put in the limited space of this book, and still keep the publishing costs down.  Too many ways to even think that God was not fully involved in a most beautiful way.  God is the only one who can bring two lives together from 1,000 miles apart, by a means which neither person uses, to ultimately compliment each other so perfectly. What she is lacking, I am strong.  Where I lack she has her strength. Only God can do this. Only God can be so good and wonderful.