Three years ago today I had no idea what I was getting into.
I laid on a chaise lounge trying to position myself in such a way as to not throroughly wrinkle my tuxedo. I enjoyed listening to the music being played out on the porch, but was also wishing I was out there to hear the band that I had assembled. People kept walking past to go to the restrooms and making that “I’m not sure I’m supposed to be here or be talking to you” face when they passed me. I enjoy awkward moments.
We got the cue that it was time to head out. I had 5 million thoughts (roughly) in my head, and was surprised that most of them were completely unrelated to the event at hand. I kept wondering about the feedback coming from Joe’s microphone to my left. I was thinking about what the people politely smiling were thinking about what I was thinking about. If they only knew. I smiled, because it felt like I needed to.
15 minutes, 2 rings, 2 vows, and a prayer later I jumped, clicked my heels, and walked down the brick walkway toward the first of our getaway cars. We really only got away to the back of the house, as I remember. I kept messing with a new ring on my left hand, wondering if I’d ever get used to wearing jewelry.
We had a relatively short reception (there was business to attend to, and the weather took a turn for the chilly), but enjoyed dancing, getting caked in the face, and a much nicer second getaway car.
When we got to the Hilton, we showed up at the same time as Job, one of my friends who was supposed to drop our stuff off at our room before we got there. Poor timing meant that we all got to share another awkward moment as he wheeled our stuff into the honeymoon suite. I enjoyed every second of watching the normally-unflappable Job squirm in discomfort.
Fast forward three years, and it feels like time has gone almost as fast. Now we have a little boy, a great group of friends and co-workers in Asheville, and a slew of memories for which to be thankful. God has done some great things.
If I had it to do all over again, knowing what I know now (just a sliver of what I was getting into), I’d still “I do.”
Happy anniversary, Babe. I’d still pick you over every woman on the planet.