“I, Shirley, take you, Jim, to be my wedded husband . . .”

Saturday, December 7 dawned cold and clear. I drove into the church parking lot in the early morning light. The ground was sprinkled with snow like powdered sugar; the temperature hovered in the low teens. There was no wind; it was a still, cold day. My feet crunched snow as I walked quickly into the church from the parking lot.
I put on my dress: a red-laced sheath with a V-neck. The moment I had seen it, I’d known it was the one for me.
“Shirley, you look beautiful!” exclaimed my hairdresser. “You have such a cute figure!”
I felt great.
I knew Bill, my first love, had been the right man for me—in spite of marrying him at a mere nineteen. I had learned so much from him. He taught me persistence.
Marrying Blair had been right, too. Blair gave me love when I didn’t think I’d ever experience it again. He showed me that a person doesn’t need to be rigid to remain firm in belief.
God was so full of surprises. Incredibly, I asked God to bring someone into my life who loved Him more than anyone—and I also asked that he be crazy about me. And He did—He brought me Jim.
Wreaths with white lights twinkled on the walls. Two twenty-foot trees stood in the front corners of the sanctuary, infusing the air with holiday excitement. Sparkly stars and red poinsettias added to the festivity. Near the altar, a simple crèche held baby Jesus.
We had a brief rehearsal before guests began to arrive. Our photographer busily snapped pictures. I hoped she’d know who was who—there were so many in this new, blended family. Jim and I wanted to rehearse once more the song we’d sing together in the ceremony, but there wasn’t time. “Unchained Melody” drifted from the piano before the soloist rehearsed “You Lift Me Up” once more.
The candles were lit; the music was playing. The oldest four granddaughters walked in: Rebekah, Taylor, Kennedy, and Sarah. The flower girls, Haley and Annabel, were next. Then Cole, carrying a pine box with two rings nestled inside. The youngest two, Emily and Rowan, had serious looks on their faces as they followed. The strains of “Canon in D” began, our cue to enter.
The day was perfect even though everything hadn’t gone as planned. My son’s two daughters had driven down from Seattle. When they came into the bride’s room to freshen up, I asked, “Is your daddy here?”
“No. But he’s on his way,” they said. I felt a knot of concern but tried to brush it aside.
I also wondered about the family members I hadn’t seen the night before. I had hoped everyone could have met that Friday evening. Yet each person had their own life and complications. My stepson Jonathan met Jim just minutes before the ceremony. There just wasn’t enough time for all the conversations and introductions that I longed for.
Todd appeared at the sanctuary in the nick of time. I breathed a sigh of relief. True to form, he had flown his own airplane down from Seattle, taking this opportunity for adventure.
I glanced at a few faces. There was my daughter, biting her lip with tears in her eyes. My sister and brother brushed away tears of joy. And there on the other side of the sanctuary were grateful faces of joy for Jim, their brother and friend. Jim’s mentally handicapped sister, Mary, laughed out loud with glee. It put a smile on everyone’s face.
I took a deep breath as the wedding coordinator opened the doors. “Go ahead. It’s time.” Instead of being escorted down the center aisle, I walked in through a side door by myself. I tried to walk slowly but it was impossible.
Jim had a huge grin on his face as he walked quickly to meet me. He looked so handsome in his black tuxedo, white shirt, and red vest. His face was full of joy.
Pastor Paul Jackson opened the ceremony. “These two really, really want to get married!” And we did.

After the ceremony, we were toasted with touching words of congratulations from friends and family on both sides. I tossed my bouquet and unmarried women both young and old stood ready to see who would be married next. My friend Sue caught it. Our guests showered us with bubbles as we left the church. In the parking lot, our granddaughters opened a basket containing ten love birds. Jim and I were each given a dove and we released them into the icy blue sky to symbolize our love and commitment.

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The day was perfect. God truly turned each of our sorrows, both Jim’s and mine into joy.

Weeping may go on all night, but joy comes with the morning. Psalm 30:5b