lucky 13

Today is a day to celebrate love.  Michael and I have been married 13 years today. thirteen.  I keep saying it over and over again because it sounds like a lot and I can’t figure out where the time has gone.  I know, I know. Everyone says that at some point in their life, but I’m serious.  Where did the hours, days and weeks go?

At any rate, on September 25th, 1999, I thought I was the luckiest girl in the world, marrying the man of my dreams.  Winsomely handsome, cunningly smart, and over the top talented but best of all, he thought I was worth giving the time of day.

The week before the wedding, my plans didn’t seem to be working out quite like I’d hoped.  A friend was coming in to town to be the organist for the wedding.  A few days before the big day, we went into the sanctuary to check things out and the organ didn’t work.  the organ. did. not. work.  This was a huge deal for this musician’s wedding. It put a full-out heart attack in motion.

I thought for sure that was the worst thing that could happen, until we couldn’t find the cake lady.  That’s right. We had hired her in the spring, but by September,  she had disappeared. She was not answering her phone – that’s never a good sign.   On the Thursday before the wedding, you would have found me in my parent’s hotel room dissolved into a puddle of tears.   But my dad, he took a drive to the backside of Lookout mountain, Rising Fawn to be exact – hunting down the missing cake lady.   While he was gone, I vaguely remember my Aunt Deborah trying to make me feel better with a bit of humor, suggesting that she could do wonders in her room with the microwave and a few brownie mixes…  it just didn’t seem funny at the time.

A bride’s nightmare: no cake. no organ.

But, in the history of the biggest failed weddings ever, mine isn’t listed.    The church rented a working organ for my friend to play.  And my dad, he searched out the cake lady’s whereabouts.  On the day of the nuptials, a gorgeous and incredibly delicious cake was prepared and delivered.   Everything worked out perfectly, and the day was one of the best of my life.  Friends and family abounded, celebrating our love with us and I don’t think it could have been better.

Truthfully, even if things weren’t perfect, I can look back and say it wouldn’t have mattered.  Good luck and earthly perfection are not the goals. They never have been.  Our journey has been far from storybook perfection. But, somewhere along the way, I have begun to understand this : We are made one, completed by His love. Truly perfected love, that comes later, when all things are redeemed.  For now, Michael and I are just humans, huddled together, hiding inside His lovingkindness and mercy – and for our marriage, that is the best place we can be.  Neither of us is perfect, but each of us is forgiven, prepared to love and forgive each other.

So, I guess we’re not lucky at thirteen years – just blessed.  completely, wonderfully, and amazingly blessed. Our journey is just getting started.  May there be thirteen and thirteen and thirteen more…