Today my heart sister marries her best friend, the boy turned man she fell in love with four years ago… So I wrote her this wedding letter.
You’re going to want to run to him.
You’re going to want to speed down that aisle on a hill. That hollow there where you’ll see him standing, waiting for you, smiling at you, catching his breath at the beauty you are in that gown we prayed for…that’s where you’re going to want to waltz right down so you can take his hand and be his.
Yet at the same time, I know you.
You’ll be tempted to stop for a second, too.
Just for a moment, a moment all to yourself. You’re going to want to stop fully, halt those wedding shoes, pull back on your daddy’s arm, and take a second to breathe, embrace, remember. Breathe in the moment. Embrace the new beginning. Remember the times when you wondered if this day would ever come.
Here it is, dearest. A day for you and your love. A day to pledge your troth and look into those eyes you’ve lost yourself in and commit to the covenant to which God has called you.
Do neither. Don’t speed and don’t stop. I don’t want you to speed, of course, because that white dress is going to be hard enough to keep hem-pristine. ;) (Although I had no idea your purple shoes would do the deed!)
And, well, we both know if you stop, your man just might take off and come get you.
May I suggest a happy medium? May I take a gander, this single gal, and speak to the one who is wiser than I in the ways of love, give advice to the one who so often gives me advice?
So you can savor, but you’re still moving. Take one step after another, one at a time, that’s it. Let your eyes swim but don’t lose sight of him, the love you prayed for, waited for, the one who prayed for you, who waits for you now.
Feel the grass beneath your shoes bow and carry the honor of escorting you down the aisle we’ll make in that woodsy lawn your parents claim, where you grew up. Hear the whisper of the wind, the chill of that November bluster, the trill of that song I’m playing in the corner.
Smile in the sun, if there’s sun, and just dare the rain to arrive without an RSVP, as I am doing with this wedding letter.
When you hear a sigh, know that’s probably Meg or me. When you hear the tears, look for us then, too, dear.
On this, the first day of your forever, I’m honored to wear purple and watch you and him say your heart’s vows beneath the very trees where he swore your souls are made of the same stuff, where he asked you if you’d have him.
But when his smile tugs you closer, walk slow.
My pirate princesa friend, your ever after awaits.