A Wedding Disaster... Or Was It?

by Sheila Holmes

  I'm not getting out of bed today. Evan offered to come and bring me meals today, but I told him I'm too sick to eat. (I can't believe my rib cage hurts so bad! I must have thrown up harder than I realized for me to hurt this bad.)

  I'm so sorry that I've messed up our plans to talk about the two venues this morning. I was going to suggest we go look at them together today and then compare the two, but until I feel human again, I'm not leaving this bed.

  Momma, do you think you can bring me some soda crackers and 7-Up sometime today? I've had the dry heaves a couple of times already, and I'm convinced that it would be better to have something in my stomach that I can just bring up and be done with it.

  When do you have to decide on one of these reception halls before you lose the dep...

  Sick again...

  My email reply to KiirstiAan:

  We must have passed around some bug. I was throwing up all night. I feel a lot better this morning. I was able to eat a little dry cereal with milk. It's been two hours and I've kept it down. Other than weak, I'm really not feeling too bad.

  Your dad isn't vomiting anymore, but he still has the headache. He'll probably be in bed most (if not all) of the day. I'm going to take him in some crackers. He told me he doesn't want them, but I'm going to just leave them on his bedside table.

  Don't worry about the reception places. If you're not feeling any better by tomorrow, I may just have to go make the decision myself. Would that distress you something awful?

  Your dad's calling. Gotta go.

  I'll bring you some crackers and Sprite in a little while. (Don't feel like going to the store first to get 7-Up.)

  Hang in there!

  KiirstiAan's email reply to me:

  Evan just called. He's been throwing up all morning. No one's home but him. If you feel like you can possibly do it, could you take some of those crackers and soda to him too?

  If you can, his house key is on the driver's side tire, hidden under the tire hood of his car. It’s in the driveway. Please don't forget to put it back when you leave.

  Just go on in. If you can hear him throwing up, just put the stuff in the kitchen and leave. He would be so humiliated if you saw him. If you don't hear anything, sneak down the hall and knock on the door. Just tell him you've brought crackers and Sprite. Ask him if he wants you to bring th....

  Oh, man! Sick again...

  KiirstiAan's email to me:

  Nausea has passed.

  Thanks for the crackers, Sprite and chicken soup. (Boy, when we're sick, are we cliché, or what?!)

  Sorry that Evan was heaving over the toilet when you got there. I emailed him about the crackers, soda and soup. He replied that he'd get up and get the stuff in a while, when he's feeling better.

  No, Evan and I don't mind at all if you make the reception venue choice. We both love your vision for our wedding, and we both trust you completely.

  It would have been fun to go together, but, hey, life just happens, doesn't it?!

  I don't think I'll be emailing you any more today or tonight. I'm just ruined, but so thankful not to be nauseated anymore.

  I'll eat some of the soup this evening, if I can.

  I LUV U, Mommy.

  We'll talk L8R.

  P.S. If you truly loved me, you'd finish the story and email it to me. Now that I'm not nauseated, I could use just a bit of entertainment.

  Evan's email to me:

  Thanks for the soup and crackers. I think it was the Sprite that actually kept me from dying, though.

  I think KA already told you we're fine with you picking out our reception location.

  I love you, Mom. (I'm practicing. Although calling you that doesn't sound as strange as I thought it would.)

  Goodnight.

  My email reply to Evan:

  Glad the food helped.

  Yes, KiirstiAan told me you're ok with me picking out the location. Thanks for the faith in me.

  I love you back, Son. (Actually, calling you that does sound strange. But, then I don't call KiirstiAan, Daughter.)

  Continue your practicing. I love the sound of it! (It's my second choice, however. My first choice would be "Your Royal Highness,” but somehow I think you're going to be resistant to that one.)

  Goodnight. Hope you're able to sleep ok.

  My email reply to KiirstiAan:

  Ok, Sweetie.

  I'll get back on the story, finish up the last of it and try to get it emailed to you today, although it may be more like tonight.

  It'll have to wait a while, because I have the appointments at the two reception venues. So far, I don't feel nervous about making the choice. Pray for me today that I will exercise wisdom and make the right decision. And, remember that the right decision might be coming to the conclusion that neither one is what is best. Then, we'll be back to square one, and I'll have to spend the rest of the day looking at other locations.

  If, however, I decide on one of these two, I think I'll take advantage of the time I'm out anyway looking around at churches. I've got my iPhone, so I can look up other churches, map them out and drive around until something materializes.

  If I don't decide on either one of the two reception locations, then I'll spend the rest of the day looking for both churches and reception venues. (I'm starting to hate the word "venue.")

  (Don't suppose you'd like to make your wedding a couple months later, huh???)

  Just kidding!

  B4N (Bye for now? Did I get that right?)

  Oh well, at least I'm still trying to learn texting.

  *****

  My email to KiirstiAan:

  Well, you've got a choice.

  You can either yell at me for not calling you yesterday evening, or...

  You can rejoice, because you are going to have your wedding reception at...

  wait for it... The Weeping Willow!

  You are just going to die when you see this place!

  I still can't believe they still had it available on your chosen date. The lady who helped me said the same thing. She said that reception venues are usually booked close to a year in advance. In fact, she said that this is the shortest time span before the wedding that she's ever booked. She says we displaced a record-holding booking that was three and a half months before the wedding.

  Are we special, or what?!

  The outside front lawn of this place is not to be believed. There is a ginormous weeping willow tree that greets you when you drive in the two hundred and forty-five foot long driveway. It hangs over the driveway entrance. You can't even see the building until you drive almost all the way back to it. But, you don't want the driveway to end, because the flowers and shrubs that edge the driveway on both sides are phenomenal, and I've never seen such green, green grass in my life.

  The building itself looks like an English cottage, only a huge one. (Talk about fitting into your English Country Garden theme, it's insane!) And, to walk in the reception hall, you have to pass through a garden gate that opens to a stone walkway. After maybe fifteen to twenty steps, you cross over a bridge that has fish swimming in the stream below it, then another maybe thirty feet to the front entrance.

  Oh, I almost forgot...

  The cottage is covered in twenty-five thousand small white twinkle lights. (That's not an exaggeration on my part, she told me this.) The lady that showed me around turned them on, and even though it was daytime you could see that it would be a romantic fantasyland vision at night.

  I have to describe the inside to you, but I'm too exhausted to do that tonight.

  I think what I'm going to do is finish the last little bit of the story, email that to you, then go to bed. Shouldn't take me more than maybe thirty minutes to finish up.

  I wasn't sick today, but I'm really tired, have been all day. I probably shouldn't have spent the day reception-venue hunting right after that "blight" we all had. But, now that it's ours, I feel such a sense of satisfaction.

  I've attached some pictures of the interior of t
he place, and a floor plan.

  You can get an idea of what it looks like inside, then as soon as we're both feeling up to it, we'll go look at it together.

  Or...

  Don't open the attachments at all, and when you and Evan walk in after your wedding, you can just both be dazzled by it!

  Your choice!

  What do you say?!

  Now, I've got to keep on church-hunting.

  G'night, Cutie.

  My email to KiirstiAan:

  Did I say that I have two church venue appointments tomorrow? Sometimes I think I have too many details on my mind and am not letting you in on them. Be sure to pray about this. I'm sure the Lord has a wonderful church in mind, and will lead us to it.

  Ok, now I really am going to finish the story.

  Really! I am! I'm not kidding this time!

  Enough of this nonsense.

  I'll send the story ending as quickly as possible.

  Again, G'night.

  Chapter 23

  Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen... These lights definitely are not coming back on! Lord, what are you doing? Eighteen, nineteen, twenty... Jesus, this is my wedding. This isn't supposed to happen! You're supposed to make this into the most wonderful and memorable night of my life! Twenty-one, twenty-two... What do we do if the lights just simply don't ever come back on? Lord, I can hear people starting to whisper. And, I hear that little girl crying. She's scared of the dark. Jesus, please... We need a miracle!

  *****

  They had been plunged into darkness not more than fifteen seconds when Pastor Jerry felt his left arm being squeezed by Reverend Reeves, who was now leaning in and whispering to him.

  "Jerry, I'll take care of this. I'm leaving in the next few seconds. You're going to have to keep this going. I've got an idea.

  "Go ahead and give the welcome and talk with the congregation about how Christians view marriage as opposed to the world’s view. Then, if I'm still gone, go ahead and give the couple their marriage charge. If not before, I should be back by the end of that part. If not, improvise, Brother.

  "And, make sure the bride and her father don't move from where they are. They aren't to begin walking up the aisle until they see light.

  "Got it?"

  "Got it."

  With a deep breath and a calm resolve, Pastor Jerry began.

  "Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here even in the darkness of this moment to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony."

  Total quiet and calm entered the Lord's House at this moment.

  "There are two very important illuminations that must come together to place this couple in God's Hand as one. One is light within this room so that this couple has the ability to find each other, and the second is the illumination that can only come from God's Word.

  "To the bride and groom, in your current separate locations in this sanctuary, I would say to you that it is actually something good the Lord has done this evening in letting you have these moments with no light. It gives you the opportunity to tune out all other things and exclusively think on what marriage is, as God designed it..."

  With the affirmation of Pastor Jerry that he would "hold down the fort,” and having begun words of welcome to all the wedding guests, Reverend Reeves turned and dashed in the darkness down the side stairs of the stage, turned left and half-walked, half-ran down the outside aisle until he passed through the small door that led into the narthex. (He and Pastor Jerry had been in their official positions on the stage, standing side-by-side, awaiting the bride to be brought forward and joined with her groom, where they would vow before God and this assembly to love, honor, and cherish each other until death would part them.)

  It was fortunate that he had been at this church for decades now and could navigate almost every square inch of it blindfolded, because that is exactly what was needed at this moment.

  Once in the vestibule, he went directly to the wedding planner and her assistant. They were easily found, even in the dark, because they were both huddled together and loudly whispering together in a panic-mode.

  "Ok, here's what needs to be done.

  "One of you needs to go to the choir room. Pull two blue choir robes and one men's white robe. You two each need to put on the blue robe. Don't bother with the neck sashes for each of you, but do bring a white one to go with the white robe only. Have the white robe and neck sash ready when I get back. The man I am bringing back is the violinist, and you need to have him put the robe and neck sash on. I will give him his instructions as I'm bringing him back.

  "The other one of you needs to go to my office, where you'll find the white candles for the upcoming Christmas Eve Service. They're in the coat closet. Bring three of the four boxes here to the vestibule. You'll also find two large white baskets in that same closet. Bring those as well. Put half the candles in one basket, the other half in the other basket. Then each of you take a filled basket and place yourselves at either side aisle door. Station yourselves each just inside the door. Listen for my instructions from the pulpit. Just follow those instructions. Oh, don't forget you'll each need a candle lighter. Questions?"

  Almost in unison, "No, we've got it." And, with that, each woman briskly walked out the side narthex door, one to the minister's office, the other to the choir room.

  Having completed this portion of his mission, he bolted out the double front doors of the church and began running toward Angel's corner violin-playing station. He was prepared to go to Angel's apartment, if necessary, but having already whispered a prayer that the Lord would make Angel easily found, he audibly spoke this, "Thank you, Jesus. You're so faithful!"

  Packing up his violin and closing his case, Angel was just now preparing to walk the short distance home to his apartment and say goodnight to another day of playing his old and beloved violin for passersby.

  "Rev, slow down. What's wrong?"

  "Nothing, if you're free and will allow me to cash in on the favor you said you wanted to do for me."

  "I'm all yours, Rev."

  As they ran back to the church, Reverend Reeves explained his plan to Angel. There was just enough street lighting that he could see Angel's grin at his forthcoming appointed duties. In fact, he chuckled and sped up his running enough that now Reverend Reeves had to step it up to stay astride him.

  "Wow, Angel! Is this your way of telling me you ran track in high school?

  "No, this is my way o' tellin' you I ran track on scholarship all the way through college."

  Reverend Reeve's jaw dropped open. He didn't know Angel was a college graduate. By his displayed language skills, he was unsure Angel had even graduated high school.

  "I know. It's a shocker, huh?! Rev, close yer mouth and breathe through yer nose 'til we git there."

  Neither spoke again until they entered the church doors together and joined the blue-robed wedding planner and her assistant.

  Reverend Reeves checked his watch, forgetting there was no light by which to read it. He was guessing maybe eight or nine minutes had passed since he left Pastor Jerry's side at the pulpit.

  The wedding planner helped Angel into his robe and neck sash, then planner and assistant walked in opposite directions, feeling their ways along the wall until they felt the side aisle doors, which they then opened and stood directly inside, each with her basket of candles and a lighter.

  Reverend Reeves quietly opened the double doors leading into the sanctuary, having just helped slip Angel into his robe and neck sash before entering, then pulled him around the bride and groom, placing him two strides in front of them and facing him in the direction of the pulpit.

  With one squeeze of reassurance to Angel's arm, Reverend Reeves quickly walked from the back middle aisle where he had deposited the violinist, across the back left side and up the side aisle, up the stage steps, and stopped at Pastor Jerry's side, squeezing the clergy's arm just as he was finishing his words, charging Melissa and James to make Christ the foundation of their marriage.

  Pasto
r Jerry knew this was the signal that Reverend Reeves would begin his speaking portion of this desperate "wedding save."

  With a slight breathlessness, Reverend Reeves spoke.

  "Remain seated and let's pray that the Lord will feel most welcome here this evening as two of His children, Melissa and James, join their lives in holy matrimony.

  "Lord Jesus, we so thank you for your part in bringing Melissa and James together. Your Ways are awesome and we believe their union is part of Your bigger plan for their lives. Thank you. In Christ's Beloved Name we pray, amen."

  With the prayer concluded, Reverend Reeves continued.

  "Beloved family and friends, please stand." They stood.

  "From the side aisles you will each receive a candle. Pass it to the person next to you. And keep receiving and passing until everyone in your pew has one.

  "The outside aisle candle will be lit by the blue-robed attendants, but then we will light each other's candle with our own until all candles in the row are lighted.

  "Melissa, follow the light and the music until you are joined here with your groom."

  One-by-one, each person's candle on both sides of the back row was lit.

  And, it was at that point that Angel mounted the violin between his shoulder and chin and began what were the most reverent and haunting strains of ‘Amazing Grace.’

  Oh, how does one explain the power and majesty of the sound that permeated the church sanctuary. It was not a traditional wedding song, but there is no other song that could have surmounted its beauty and its message.

  All the while he played, Angel walked only as far as each row that was completely engulfed by candlelight on each side, then stood motionless, continuing to play, as he waited for the light of the next row forward to complete its glow, at which time he walked forward to that light, then stopped again. The process was unrelenting and totally magnificent. All the while, ‘Amazing Grace’ lit the way for the bride and her father, who followed Angel's steps forward, then halted, then stepped forward, then halted, following Angel's lead.

  By the time the bride, on the arm of her father, reached the front of the church, Angel was concluding the musical piece. He turned to face the church body, and as Melissa's dad joined her hand to James', the musical phrases that remained were not lost to anyone in that congregation.