June 2021 Featured Article

Have You Ever Met a Matchmaker?

After growing up in Canada, meeting my husband in Boston, and then moving to California, I used to fly back and forth across North America a lot. Every time I flew, I’d flip through an airline magazine. You know the ones: they have those long, photo-heavy articles about fantastic, off-the-beaten-path travel destinations. They also have ads for upscale steak houses, fancy hotels, and elite matchmaking services—the kind geared toward busy businesspeople who are willing to pay a few thousand dollars for a professional matchmaker to set them up with people they might like.

 

I’ve never met a professional matchmaker. I did, however, meet my husband through a matchmaking friend.

 

A lot of the Christian romance novels I read have unofficial matchmakers in them. Some of them even feature unofficial matchmaking clubs! They’re usually made up of sweet older ladies who want to ensure that everyone they know finds love.

 

I really enjoy reading about the machinations of these unofficial matchmakers, because they show that, in a Christian community, people look out for each other. They want the best for one another. They’ll go out of their way to help each other out.

 

The book I’m writing right now features a pretty shameless matchmaking mother. I’m having a lot of fun writing about her efforts. Here’s a sneak peek at one of the matchmaking scenes:

 

Her mom gave Ryan a scrutinizing look. “Do you want to have children?”

            “Mom!” Zara protested. Her mother’s lack of boundaries was going to scare him off, and surprisingly, given that he wasn’t anything like her usual type, she didn’t want him to go.

            He chuckled and told her, “It’s okay,” before turning his attention to her mom. “Yes, Nancy. In an ideal world, I would like to have children.”

            “Well, isn’t that another wonderful coincidence?” her mother mused, a smile lighting up her face. “So would Zara.”

            “Oh, my goodness,” Zara mumbled, covering her face with her hands.

            Her mom gave an exaggerated, patently fake yawn. “You know what, kids? I’m exhausted after that long drive. Why don’t you two stay and have dessert? I’m going to head upstairs to bed.”

Zara groaned. “Mom…” If she was the Mistress of the Obvious, her mother was the Queen.

Willfully oblivious, her mom said, “Stay, sweetheart. Enjoy.” Then she went so far as to pat Ryan on the cheek. “Don’t keep her out too late.”

            He chuckled again. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Nancy.”

            Her mom gave him another fond smile. “I knew there was a reason I liked you. Those nice manners will take you far.”

            A few beats passed, and then Ryan said, “You can take your hands off your eyes now. She’s gone.”

            Zara peeked through her fingers to confirm her mother’s departure for herself. “I’m so sorry about that. She’s—”

            “—quite the wingwoman,” he finished.

            Zara groaned again. “Ignore her. Ignore everything she said.”

            Grinning, he asked, “Does she try to set you up with every single man you meet?”

            She winced. “Pretty much.”

 

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