Eight Adventurous Years
Then I sat up and saw a commercial suitbag hanging on the door of the borrowed bedroom, and reality came bursting in.
The amazing endocrine system my Father designed for me flooded my system with adrenaline. My heart raced… my mouth got drier… my headache faded… I bolted up from bed, and started trying to figure out what in the world I was going to do with the rest of the day.
Five hours till my wedding started and, since I’m a guy, I had nothing to do. I honestly wish women would allow themselves to have it as easy as guys do on their wedding day.
Guys don’t have to get their hair done in some magical array.
Guys don’t have to have special spackle applied to their face (although maybe we should!).
Guys don’t normally have to send someone sprinting across town to find their wedding garments. We just get dressed and wear them to the wedding.
You see, we guys are very comfortable understanding that have absolutely no control over anything that happens on our wedding day except the two words that are expected to come out of our mouths. This is very important. Why?
Because, when Carly Rae Bowman began her very last walk down the center aisle of a church, when I saw her in white and silver and crimson…
Eight years later, I’m still thrilled. I’m still stunned. I’m still proud to be her husband. But I’m not so scared anymore. We’ve failed each other, but we’ve succeeded for each other so much more. She has taught me so much about grace and perseverance and stubbornness and love.
Thank you, Father… may we have so many more years together…
in HIS love,