Sunday, August 21, 2011

The Sweetest Day; The Marriage

I wondered how to start to share this one sweet day our family had.  I guess like most things it’s best to begin at the beginning…

There once was this guy that spied this chick and thought, “she’s cute.”  He introduced himself and they shared a conversation. The chick liked the guy and their conversations grew to LUV.  So, a baby, an apartment, a degree, a house and a second baby later… I received a call in the middle of the work day from this guy.  The guy wanted to know if he could stop by and visit with me. 

I being me (never calls me in the middle of the work day – what’s going on), ask if all is well or should I stop by the mall on my way home and pick up a taser?  He said all was well and would explain that evening. 

Him being him, he began with, “I really appreciate the way you all have taken me into the family…” and then asked if it would be okay if he asked my baby chick to marry him.  It was so very sweet!

And (a baby, an apartment, a degree, a house and a second baby later) I gave my consent.  He showed me the ring he picked out.  The guy being him-self; decided that he could trust the four year old to keep his secret and showed her the ring as well.  My grandbaby chick being her-self – told my chick everything she knew and then some (smile).     

Finally the ring was offered and accepted.  The second baby slowed the plans down a tiny bit (the girl was just sick) but eventually, things picked up and got moving.  We went to look at gowns and I had to remind my chick to tell the dress lady she was very pregnant so the woman wouldn’t try and choke off her air with tight girdles and such (I believe she was six-seven months pregnant at the time). 

I was looking forward to getting the ceremony behind us because the bride had begun to wear on my nerves.  Don’t get me wrong, she was nothing like the Bridezilla’s seen on television – but she did have definite ideas of what she wanted, didn’t do a grand job of communicating that to those who would help. 

I forged ahead with lighting fires to get the church secured and reception plans made - so “save the date cards” and the invitations/RSVP’s could be put in the mail (I confessed to my father – I didn’t want the day to be a hot mess so I was feeling some pressure too).  With cost and low drama in mind, the couple determined each would have only one person stand with them. 

As the date drew closer, I made some other moves (just trying to help move things along) to try and make sure the “day” would come together.  The save the date cards, invitations and programs didn’t match in color – but I already had all we would need thus saving a bundle.      

The bride, while not like the Bridezilla’s often seen on television, exuded a tenseness that shifted back and forth towards temper tantrums.  She’d determined that she wanted to plan and execute the whole ceremony herself.  No matter the number of times she was asked what needed to be done – she just kept saying, “I got it, I got it, I got it.” 

Finally, at the bridal shower, the nonsense was cut through and a clean plan developed (she has a lovely set of friends that called her out on her slow-ful-ness).  Last minute items were purchased, a photographer secured and a set up/tear down crew formed.  But, trust me, we were still looking to make assignments a day or two before the nuptials (thank-you pianist and soloist – my brother/friend).   

The day arrived and of course we were running late to the church.  We had so much to do but all the plans fell into place.  The sanctuary looked very nice.  The groom, his best man (him’s baby brother), and the ring bearer (him’s nephew) looked fabulous in their white tuxedos. The flower girls (her baby cousins) had on very pretty dresses and actually dropped the petals on the floor as planned!

The bride’s maid looked lovely as did the mini brides’ maids (the couple’s daughters) in their mini bridal gowns.  Even Grandma’s Punkin Stew was decked out in a little white satin tuxedo (okay – I admit it – I lost my sweet Stew so many times that day I should have been jailed!  I finally had the good fortune to place him in the arms of my girlfriend’s mother – I knew she wouldn’t let him go and all his needs would be met). 

The bride’s brother looked stellar in his black tuxedo.  He was very serious about his role of giving the bride away and I was reminded of how serious he was a young child.      

My sister/friend had to shew  the Mary Kay lady away (we didn’t really want me to catch a case on such a fine day did we) from the bride and lots of folks put the girl in her gown. 

My other sister/friend started the program off with the scripture; in came the Man of God with the Groom and the Groomsman; the doors opened at the back of the sanctuary and out came the handsome ring bearer – high stepping his way towards the alter; next came the little flower chicks with the mini brides and bride’s maid close behind. 

It was time for the “Aunties” to roll out the carpet for the bride.  The only thing was it wouldn’t unroll as it was designed to do – in the end – a very remarkable thing happened; everyone sitting at the end of a pew put a hand on it to assist with the rolling out. 

The doors opened again and in came my baby chick, the bride with her serious baby brother.  The minister began, (and got my baby chick’s name right which had been a point of concern for her brother the day before) and My Dust said the prayer, but before doing so, he remarked on the fact that everyone touched the carpet and everyone present was a resource for them as they moved forward in their life together. 

The couple shared a serious kiss and was announced as man and wife.  The groom heartily embraced his brother and smiled the biggest smile. 

I really thought I would get a chance to cry a little but every time the events got so sweet to me I felt a tear coming on – the couple would start giggling and ruin the moment for me.

I did get a chance to dance with my father.

For weeks after this very sweet day, the little flower girls and the mini brides discussed the events of the day.  The bride had given them all the chance to wear the veil and to wear the dress.  I overheard one of these conversations.  “…un-huh remember we were at the marriage.”

I like the way those little chicks think; “the marriage” sounds much better than a wedding. 

Happy marriage anniversary!   



   

Friday, August 5, 2011

RESTORATION

Several years ago, at my home church, I heard a sermon that I thought I would never forget.  In my mind, I called it the 3 R’s.  Well, a lot of years have passed and I can only remember two of the 3 R’s from that sermon (repent & restore).  The thing I liked about it the most was the restore part. 

Then, the year my oldest child graduated from high school, I had the opportunity to travel an hour and be a part of a service that Pastor Jim Cymbala (Pastor of the Brooklyn Tabernacle – perhaps better known for their award winning choir).  I didn’t know about the choir but had been introduced to his writing by a book club (you know the kind they send you so many books a months and you have so much time to send back the ones you don’t want – and of course I was never quick enough). 

I had run out of interesting things to read and found his book on my shelf and read it.  In the end,  I read all of his books.  His writing style resonates with me somehow.  But, I digress…on the evening in question, he indicated that the sermon he was going to share with us wasn’t the initial one he had in mind but the Holy Spirit had pressed upon him to go with; “God Can Restore The Stolen” (see 1Samuel 30: 1-20).

The understanding I got from all of the above is that – God can fix broken situations.

As I’ve mentioned before, I have been blessed with special friends (please know I’m not bragging; I’m praising).  I have a very special friend that I met on the job.

This lady extended me friendship, care and concern when she really didn’t know me very well.  She’s listened to my woes, laughed at the unbelievable, shared the Word of God with me; shared her woes (it takes a lot for folks to share their hurts with others); she’s shared her successes with me; she tried to teach me the language (Spanish) and discontinued my lessons for my own safety (apparently I really mispronounced something); and she’s even the one that introduced me to the Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir – smile. 

When her child reached the point in development where all parents wait with baited breath to see if said child will turn the corner into adulthood in the manner one prays for; she entrusted her worries with me.  Together we walked around the issues, fretted and prayed because like most young people; “our” child left the path of home training…”our” child was stolen.

Have you ever witnessed the heartbreak of a mother?  I’ve never seen a more fierce love than a mother’s love and by the same token, I’ve never seen such soul wrenching heartbreak.  If you’re a mother (I’m not saying this isn’t true for fathers – but I really want to address the mother perspective), I know you’ve had at least one night of crying yourself to sleep over your child (come on now – ya’ll give me one – I’m sure it’s been more but …).

Here is this kid that has often surprised you with their depth of understanding and expression of their views; made you feel so proud you could just bust into small pieces; find yourself bragging because you just like your kid and look forward to seeing what new things they have to share.  Here is this kid that makes you think you’re really good at parenting only to break you down to conceding you don’t know much about it at all!       

Here is this kid that you nurtured before and after birth; I mean held to your breast; patched bloodied and scrapped body parts; held in your arms during the early hours of their first heart break; built up their self esteem; and broke it down when they got too big for their britches!  Here is this kid that you sacrificed for on many levels even putting your own health (physical &emotional) at risk to meet a perceived need (sometimes real and sometimes not); and busted up on the scene in defense of & ready to do bodily harm (I know I’m not the only one that has had to ummm…. offer physical ramifications to those I thought was messing over my kids) on behalf of said child. 

And you finally get to what you thought was going to be the good part; watching your master piece child launched off in the world to do great and good things; and that sucker takes every turn you have spent your life’s energy trying to keep them from taking!

I watched my friend try and manage her broken heartedness.  I watched her walk the halls, hug herself, search the scriptures; pray; ask others to pray with her and for “our” child; I watched her cry… and I even cried with her.

There were days we really struggled over some choices she was facing.  We fussed over the scriptures.  We struggle with anxiety, sadness, depression, and our grief.
 
These circumstances existed for a while.  We discussed intercessory prayer.  I eventually wrote a prayer and gave it to her and encouraged her to have all the others she’d asked to pray about it to join us in the prayer.  For real now, by the 30th day, things changed in “our” child’s life. 

The biggest concern we had rolled up & away and out!

“Our” child joined the military; struggled through basics but made it and finished up in the training course with honors.  “Our” child’s first duty station will be Germany in a non-deployable position. 

And while all of that was very sweet; the sweetest thing was this:  “Our” child came home to surprise my friend; arriving in the middle of the night way after her bedtime – which of course was taped.  I rated a viewing of the tape and let me tell you what I saw:  I saw a mother embrace her child with tears of joys streaming down her face (much the way I believe the father of the prodigal son did upon his child’s return; see Luke 15: 11-32).  I am the witness; I saw restoration.   

God restored the mind and the relationship to the right state.