Twenty - Part 2

Part 1

I'm told that one of the most delightful members of our flock at Vintage Fellowship, while getting ready for this event, commented to his wife, "I don't really get why they are doing this. I mean, it's nice and all, but I don't know if I get it."

I confess, as my mind yawned to take in all the dear faces, the incredibly beautiful setting, the surprise of my parents being there....I wondered "Is this too much?"

I mean, we've hit a few rocky patches, but I have never thought a single time about hitting the "eject button." And I knew Robb hadn't either.  I am just as committed to him as I was the day I stood at the back of the church with the veil draped over my face, praying, "Please, God, let me be a good wife."  And here were all our friends, baking in the August heat, part of this enormous scheme (and there was so much I still didn't know);  I couldn't help wondering, "Really?" I was perhaps most surprised that Robb wanted to do this, as I don't recall us ever talking about a vow renewal.

Eight years ago, we had just moved to Arkansas. Robb had finally step-stoned his way into a good-paying job in no way related to his Bible college and Seminary education.  On his lunch break, he wandered down the curvy drive to St. Catherine's, eventually learning the story behind the beautiful stone chapel that seemed to have opened a dimension to another time and country. He made it a habit to go there on his lunch break as often as he could, nourishing his soul while learning to straddle the two worlds he now found himself part of as a bi-vocational pastor.  Our marriage was being stretched at that time, still staggering under the weight of the house we couldn't sell in Michigan, finances all askew, fledgling church in near-constant upheaval, and three little ones needing plenty of attention. I blogged more faithfully back then.  You can read all about it in the archives.  He decided that someday, when we hit a big milestone, we would renew our vows there in that sacred space.

We reached the doors of the chapel, where Aaron stood waiting for us.  I took a moment to appreciate the depth of the meaning of his being there.  Maybe better than anyone else, Aaron could witness to the arc of our relationship.  As Robb's best friend and roommate back in college, he had been there since the beginning. He was there during the breakups (oh, there was more than one!)  He stood by as Robb's best man. He was the reason we had come to make our home in Arkansas.  And because life and relationships are always complex, he and I have not always seen eye to eye.  There have been some really broken moments...even years...between us.  But they have been healed.  With time and grace and love covering a multitude of (my) sins.  There is no one else on earth I would rather have seen at the end of that aisle than Aaron.

Aaron's words guided us through a beautiful ceremony of celebration, reflection and recommitment. Each of our children shared precious words, showing us a glimpse of what our marriage provides them from their unique perspectives.  We laughed.   Gratitude for this rare glimpse into their hearts welled up and spilled out from our eyes.  Our hearts felt like they might explode as they presented their authentic, brave, funny hearts to us all. 

On the front row, Whimsy settled into a chair next to my parents and tooted with reverberations that left the people around her helpless with laughter. 

 A few weeks prior, we had a friend over, helping her plan her upcoming wedding.  It was a natural bridge to thinking about our own wedding, and I pulled out albums and Memory books in search of some of the details that had grown fuzzy.  We had written our original vows ourselves back then. Robb had written his the day OF the wedding, in fact.  But we couldn't find those folded up sheets of paper.  I knew they were somewhere, but I couldn't think where.  I was so curious about what we had promised back then.  But those words were not to be found.

Instead, Robb spoke new words. He summed me up:  He said that I am an agent with a mission to make things better.  Homes, churches, broken things. It's true that sometimes, to make something better, I have to blow it up.  He reminded me of a thousand of our stories with those few words.  And, knowing all this about me, He committed himself again with the words, "I am all in."  

And then it was my turn.  Like most people, I fear speaking in front of a crowd with no preparation. But I thought of a snippet of conversation we had had in the car, brought to the surface by a tune that was playing. 

"You are the only person I ever met who could keep up with me."   I'm dissatisfied with the inadequacy of those words, but I knew Robb knew what I meant.  I've never had to make myself smaller to be with Robb. I've never had to slow down the growth of my soul or my mind to accommodate him.  I've never had to do less of what intrigued me to babysit his comfort.  If I said I wanted to learn something, he went out and got me the tools.  If I was afraid of where a path might lead me, he reminded me that he believed in me.  When I threw out smokescreens and deceptions to hide my insecurities, he called my bluffs and reminded me I was loved.  He is the only one who knows exactly when to laugh at my tirades and when to take them seriously.  He calls me on my bullshit, but does it so rarely, I always take it seriously.  He knows the truth about me.  What unhinges me. What pulls me back together.  He holds all my secrets.  How could I promise anything else to someone so generous but this:  "I am all in, too." 

  

 We visited 1 Corinthians 13 with Aaron before reciting the traditional vows we had not used the first time around:  Sickness, health, richer, poorer, forever. And we exchanged beautiful watches, a symbol of the time we have behind us and the time we have ahead.  

 My friend commented later that those words mean something so much more when you all know what they mean from real life experience.  Real sickness. Real health.  Real riches. Real poorness.  Couples in the crowd held hands. Our questioning friend turned to his wife and conceded, "Ok. I get it. If you wanted to do something like this, that would ok with me."   

One concept, more than anything else rose to the surface in my mind:  I am so loved.  

This love, 

this fairy-tale, 

this impractical, hold-nothing-back, big, wild, reckless, unguarded, who-cares-what-anyone-else-thinks, just want to convince you beyond a shadow of a doubt in case you ever wonder...

this is what God's love is like. 

Because no husband (or wife) could out-love God. 

Our marriage from the beginning, has never been solely for our benefit.  It was a "milestone in redemptive history" from the start.  (see also).  Robb and I have found comfort and shelter in one another; we have indeed healed each other's wounds.  We are an unlikely match according to personality theories, but because God is in us, God is found in the way we love each other.  This over-the-top display of love, orchestrated by my husband, executed by our dear friends and family, is also the way God is among us.  You may not have this kind of love in a marriage, but this Love is trying to surprise you. It's in the beauty of the world. In the kindness of strangers. It's in the comfort of a friendship. It's in the surprise. It is in the party. God is love. I know this because of the way my husband loves me. And I'm trying to tell you.  

You are so loved.

"If we go on

we'll shine our light upon 

a world that badly needs to know

a human soul

can love another human soul."  - Michael Card, Poiema

"And there's more..."

Part 3

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Twenty - part 1

Sometimes a story is so good, it can be paralyzingly hard to tell it and do it justice.  I find myself in just such a predicament, but I must tell the story and I must do it in the confines of a certain little baby girl's nap time, so I have to let all hopes of perfectionism go and just write from my heart as fast as I can.

Marriage, like other mysteriously powerful things we encounter, can be hard to define, let alone keep alive.  For us, marriage has been a laboratory of grace.  We have done experiments in life with jobs, babies, pets and finances, discovering which things pull us apart and which things bond us together, all the while learning each other with seasons of curiosity, boredom,  perplexity, and joyful discovery...not necessarily in that order. You think you know all there is to know about this person, and then they confound and amaze you. Because people are not stationary, fixed entities.  And no one is more stunningly interesting to me than my husband.

I am not oblivious.  I know him to be a planner.  A strategist.  A master-surpriser.   I mean, who could forget the Madcap Surprise Piano, delivered in the dead of Christmas Eve night, by a crew of conspiring friends, slipped under my nose until the moment of surprise the next morning after all other presents had been opened?  A PIANO, I said. Our 20th wedding anniversary had been on the calendar horizon for months, and I knew that Robb would make something of it for us.  Because we know our strengths now, we admit that he will do the planning and I will do the going along and being happy with it because that's what we are really good at.  And whatever gifts are exchanged are not utilitarian things but only gifts that are to us, gifts to our couple-hood, things that will strengthen what we amusedly called our "we-ness" when we were just getting started.

And so, when we were out and about one day at a local antique market and his eyes fell on an antique Biblical chart of the end times according to the dispensational tradition, and he stared and blankly uttered the words, "I have to have that"  but the owner of the establishment refused to sell it because it was her own little treasure, I immediately went home and purchased the one and only copy available from an Etsy seller and mentally puttered with the wording on the card that I would write and give with it...something about "I've given you the last 20 years of my life, and now I want to give you the whole future."

And He. He simply said, "There is a plan for our anniversary."  And I was content.  We were juggling a job change for him and for me. The kids home for the summer.  One getting her driver's license.  One working his first full time job.  Our days were busy. Cram jam with everyday life.  I went on a girl's weekend and found a cute dress on the clearance rack that I tucked back in the closet and thought I would wear that day.  This after mentioning,

"Maybe I should ask my Stitchfix stylist to send something for our anniversary?"
"Nah.  Wear one of the dresses you already have."  He says.  And I feel a little disappointed, but it would be a little frivolous to spend too much. That clearanced-price dress would be just the thing.

 The week before our anniversary, he says, "I planned something for Saturday. I thought I would take you to 21C and then we can go to Crystal Bridges and then maybe we could do something else on our anniversary next Tuesday."  I wondered how that would work, since he would be starting his new job on that Monday.  We had never really pushed the "big" part of our celebrations, but this seemed like a sensible plan.  The arty restaurant/hotel seemed like a fun destination that we had never been to before, but I puzzled about going on a Saturday. It wasn't as if we ever are out late on a Saturday when we have church the next morning.  We laughed about other hotel-adventures on past anniversaries that found us fast asleep by 8 pm, zonked out to the sounds of the Olympics on hotel TV's.  Because we aren't flashy.  We like sleeping.

Saturday morning found us sleeping in 'til 8:30 am thanks to a drowsy little toddler, and a then on a trip to our weekly date for breakfast at Susan's.  He was so happy, I knew he had something nice planned for us, because nothing makes him happier than planning a good surprise.  He told me the kids had made plans for the evening, which seemed a little synchronized in my mind, but hey! It was nice not to have to worry about a babysitter if we were staying overnight at a hotel!  (But...what about church? That can't be it...)  I reminded him that it was the tax-free shopping weekend for school supplies and asked if I shouldn't take the kids out for a few things.

"Why don't you take Vin and Chuck? Mattie won't really want anything from Old Navy and her supply list is so short. Just plan to be back by one."
It did not seem like much time for school supply shopping. And why 1 pm?  I thought we were going out to dinner? But I shopped fast and with my mind on the prize.  Except for the five minutes I gave myself in Walmart to get a box of hair-color and a brown eye liner.  Because all of a sudden, it just felt like my hair was kind of weird.  I didn't know how I wanted to cut it, but maybe a fresh color would help?   I tossed it in the cart and made it home by 1:20 pm. Practically right on time!

Mattie greeted us at home, and I noticed she had done her hair.  "Oh, you look so cute! What are you planning to do with your friends?"
"Oh we are just going to hang out.  What time do you want me to be home tonight?"  I turned to her dad and asked, "What do you think?"
"Oh, not later than 11, ok?"
So maybe we wouldn't be out late either?

Robb began rounding up the kids..."Ok everyone, I'm taking you to your friend's houses.  Let's go!"   It seemed early to me for the kids to be going anywhere, and I asked again, "What time am I supposed to be ready? Do I have time to color my hair?"  He shrugged, "Sure. I guess so.  Just be ready around 4."  Four seemed early, but maybe we would go the museum first?  I had already reminded him the Crystal Bridges is open late on Friday nights, not Saturdays.

So he took the kids and I colored my hair.  I had time while my hair was processing to fuss with my toenails.  Thought about wearing blue nail polish to go with the blue dress in the closet.  Was unusually undecided about the color.  Mix and match?  Jamberry?  Hmm...better just shave my legs and call it good.  How about that bright coral color?  That works.  Toe nails, check.  Time to rinse the hair-color.  I wrapped up in a giant towel about the time Robb returned looking smirky.  "I have a surprise for you."

I walked into our room to find a Stitchfix box on the bed with the contents laid out on the bed.

"What did you do?"  I asked, delighted.  What a fun gesture!  Discovering new clothes and the most adorable shoes!   I held up the three dresses and set aside the one he said was his favorite to try on last.  I bubbled, "Did you use my regular stylist?  How did you do this?  This is so fun!"  The dresses were young, light colored and fun.  I toyed with the neckline of the dress he liked, unlike anything I had ever worn, and figured, "If he likes this one, I'll wear it!" After all, it was only for dinner! Why not push aside any self-consciousness.  The shoes fit perfectly and were so comfortably and sassy.  I left the dress on while I dabbed on make-up, tried on jewelry, a little disoriented from diverging from my more normal routine of getting ready.  I was pleasantly surprised to see that my new hair color went nicely with the dress and I fumbled with lipsticks to get a look I liked, remarking to Robb that I was torn about what direction to go.  "Go with an orange."  he suggested.
"But I already have green jewelry."
"Change to the orange;  that will look good."

My spider senses shot me another message, "What if we are going to get family pictures taken? I mentioned that to him awhile ago.  'I love Nikki Toth's work', I had told him."  But then I reasoned, "The kids are all with their friends, though.  Surely he would want me to be in on the planning for that?  That can't be it...." And I brushed the thoughts away, unwilling to delve any deeper into my intuition lest I figure it ALL out and ruin his surprise. (is there an irony font?)

I dabbed my fingernails with the coral nail polish, closely avoiding getting it on my dress.  I rolled my eyes at my nearly incurable tomboyishness.  I mentioned aloud for probably the 100th time in our marriage, "I'm just no good at girlie stuff.  It's like I failed girl-class. I never know how to use all those products...."  My voice trailed off as I applied mascara, a nod to the special occasion, albeit an afterthought as he emerged from our room with his own things. "I got myself something new to wear too. I figured it would be fun to be all dressed up in new things."

Looking back, I realize he was ironing a new white shirt to go with the fun and quirky seersucker pants he proudly found on clearance.  He looked adorable. And I said so.  By then I was just sort of wandering around...ready to go and wondering why he was taking so long?  "Let's take some selfies!"   he offered. "Ok!"  I figured he knew I like to not feel rushed.  So whatever our plans were, we could take as much time as we needed to get there.  We stepped outside and tried to get my shoes in the picture, employing a selfie-stick, while he had a few messages pop up on his phone.  I figured they were from Derek or Scott about church in the morning.

The crazy wall of Arkansas' August heat hit us in the face as we snapped photos and I thought to grab a vintage cotton hankie to dab my glistening face. And then finally, we were headed out to the car.

"I'm going to play the song list that makes me think of you."  He tapped his phone and started the songs we've listened to together for years, bringing back waves of memories.

Near the highway, he pulled into the gas station claiming he had to go. "Too much water to drink today."  I raised an eyebrow at that.  It wasn't THAT far to the museum.  But then I picked up my phone to Instagram one of the photos we had just taken. The music started again as we crossed the bridge to reach the highway where he turned onto the southbound ramp instead of the northbound.  My hands began to sweat nervously.

"We are going south."
"Yup."

I was genuinely confused for a moment before I collected myself and remembered.

Oh. Yes.  This is a surprise.  Our first date had been a surprise.  I felt the same nervous feeling of the unknown as I had that October night so long ago.  I smiled quizzically at him.  That night, fueled by nerves, I chattered like a squirrel before admitting guile-lessly, "I am SO nervous."  I remember him smiling at me that night, in the dark, in the back of the car on that double date, winding through the curvy roads of Pennsylvania.  We were eighteen years old. I remember that smile in perfect detail.  It was a smile that said, "I like surprising you. I like that you can say how you feel so freely."   He claims that he went home that night and told the guys in the dorm that he had met the girl he would marry.  I don't know if I believe him. But I know that after I said, "I am SO nervous!"   I wasn't nervous anymore. Not about him.  Not about where he was taking me.  Not about saying how I felt.  We had so much fun that night on that Haunted Hayride. And I knew that whatever was coming was going to be so. much. fun.

Moments later, he exited the highway down a familiar road.  My brain couldn't help trying to solve the puzzle, and I reasoned, "A party. A party at the Freeman's house. "  We passed their street.

"A party at Luke and Natalie Freeman's house." I clarified to myself.

From the car speakers,  the singer crooned,
Marry me
Today and every day
Marry me
If I ever get the nerve to say
Hello in this cafe
Say you will...

Robb slowed the car and began to turn, not into the curve I expected, but opposite. Down a driveway I knew.

"I just want you to know how much I love you. " He said gently, watching my face as I tried to form thoughts to catch the emotion rising in my throat.

The sign before the bridge said "Closed for an event."  Sunlight filtered through the dark tree-leaves,
and the car cooled under the shade of them as we crossed the narrow bridge across the gurgling creek.

"What did you do?"  I whisper - cried.

The parking lot was full of cars.
Chairs set up in front of the stone chapel.

Time slowed down as I captured the image of a beaming crowd of people under bright umbrellas in the glowing sunlight.  They seemed to be holding their breath while I tried to take them all in, my eyes reading them from left to right, line by line, and then down the path that led to the parking lot where Robb glided to a stop before our children.

Is this a crazy place to note that I didn't not expect to see our children on our date?

Especially not dressed so beautifully, holding out bouquets of flowers... bouquets like they carry in a wedding...

And then my eyes fell on my parents.... for the first time in a year, standing under the shade of the trees like a gift waiting to be given.

They were holding Whimsy, newly awaked from a nap with sleepy, sweaty curls stuck to her neck.  How could she be so happy when she hadn't napped before Robb took her out with the other kids? I think slowly when I am surprised.

Nikki Toth, her camera alive and clicking, came into my line of focus, and any self-consciousness melted away. I knew her eye, the sensitivity of her photo-journalistic style of work and I trusted her to help me take in every detail I was going to need to re-live those electrically charged moments.

It is a rarity (for me at least?) to be completely present in a moment.  All thought of yourself gone. All planning thoughts gone.  All summarizing thoughts, gone.  Instead, simply letting yourself be ushered on a wave of love into the next beautiful moment.  I think I asked someone if I was dying.  It must have been an incomprehensible question, but I think I felt like this was the new pinnacle moment of my life. That perhaps nothing could be more amazing than that moment, realizing that the dear ones around me had put such effort into creating something wondrous just for me. That I am indeed, surrounded by love. 

to be continued.....

Part 2

Part 3

Twenty - part 1

Sometimes a story is so good, it can be paralyzingly hard to tell it and do it justice.  I find myself in just such a predicament, but I must tell the story and I must do it in the confines of a certain little baby girl's nap time, so I have to let all hopes of perfectionism go and just write from my heart as fast as I can.

Marriage, like other mysteriously powerful things we encounter, can be hard to define, let alone keep alive.  For us, marriage has been a laboratory of grace.  We have done experiments in life with jobs, babies, pets and finances, discovering which things pull us apart and which things bond us together, all the while learning each other with seasons of curiosity, boredom,  perplexity, and joyful discovery...not necessarily in that order. You think you know all there is to know about this person, and then they confound and amaze you. Because people are not stationary, fixed entities.  And no one is more stunningly interesting to me than my husband.

I am not oblivious.  I know him to be a planner.  A strategist.  A master-surpriser.   I mean, who could forget the Madcap Surprise Piano, delivered in the dead of Christmas Eve night, by a crew of conspiring friends, slipped under my nose until the moment of surprise the next morning after all other presents had been opened?  A PIANO, I said. Our 20th wedding anniversary had been on the calendar horizon for months, and I knew that Robb would make something of it for us.  Because we know our strengths now, we admit that he will do the planning and I will do the going along and being happy with it because that's what we are really good at.  And whatever gifts are exchanged are not utilitarian things but only gifts that are to us, gifts to our couple-hood, things that will strengthen what we amusedly called our "we-ness" when we were just getting started.

And so, when we were out and about one day at a local antique market and his eyes fell on an antique Biblical chart of the end times according to the dispensational tradition, and he stared and blankly uttered the words, "I have to have that"  but the owner of the establishment refused to sell it because it was her own little treasure, I immediately went home and purchased the one and only copy available from an Etsy seller and mentally puttered with the wording on the card that I would write and give with it...something about "I've given you the last 20 years of my life, and now I want to give you the whole future."

And He. He simply said, "There is a plan for our anniversary."  And I was content.  We were juggling a job change for him and for me. The kids home for the summer.  One getting her driver's license.  One working his first full time job.  Our days were busy. Cram jam with everyday life.  I went on a girl's weekend and found a cute dress on the clearance rack that I tucked back in the closet and thought I would wear that day.  This after mentioning,

"Maybe I should ask my Stitchfix stylist to send something for our anniversary?"
"Nah.  Wear one of the dresses you already have."  He says.  And I feel a little disappointed, but it would be a little frivolous to spend too much. That clearanced-price dress would be just the thing.

 The week before our anniversary, he says, "I planned something for Saturday. I thought I would take you to 21C and then we can go to Crystal Bridges and then maybe we could do something else on our anniversary next Tuesday."  I wondered how that would work, since he would be starting his new job on that Monday.  We had never really pushed the "big" part of our celebrations, but this seemed like a sensible plan.  The arty restaurant/hotel seemed like a fun destination that we had never been to before, but I puzzled about going on a Saturday. It wasn't as if we ever are out late on a Saturday when we have church the next morning.  We laughed about other hotel-adventures on past anniversaries that found us fast asleep by 8 pm, zonked out to the sounds of the Olympics on hotel TV's.  Because we aren't flashy.  We like sleeping.

Saturday morning found us sleeping in 'til 8:30 am thanks to a drowsy little toddler, and a then on a trip to our weekly date for breakfast at Susan's.  He was so happy, I knew he had something nice planned for us, because nothing makes him happier than planning a good surprise.  He told me the kids had made plans for the evening, which seemed a little synchronized in my mind, but hey! It was nice not to have to worry about a babysitter if we were staying overnight at a hotel!  (But...what about church? That can't be it...)  I reminded him that it was the tax-free shopping weekend for school supplies and asked if I shouldn't take the kids out for a few things.

"Why don't you take Vin and Chuck? Mattie won't really want anything from Old Navy and her supply list is so short. Just plan to be back by one."
It did not seem like much time for school supply shopping. And why 1 pm?  I thought we were going out to dinner? But I shopped fast and with my mind on the prize.  Except for the five minutes I gave myself in Walmart to get a box of hair-color and a brown eye liner.  Because all of a sudden, it just felt like my hair was kind of weird.  I didn't know how I wanted to cut it, but maybe a fresh color would help?   I tossed it in the cart and made it home by 1:20 pm. Practically right on time!

Mattie greeted us at home, and I noticed she had done her hair.  "Oh, you look so cute! What are you planning to do with your friends?"
"Oh we are just going to hang out.  What time do you want me to be home tonight?"  I turned to her dad and asked, "What do you think?"
"Oh, not later than 11, ok?"
So maybe we wouldn't be out late either?

Robb began rounding up the kids..."Ok everyone, I'm taking you to your friend's houses.  Let's go!"   It seemed early to me for the kids to be going anywhere, and I asked again, "What time am I supposed to be ready? Do I have time to color my hair?"  He shrugged, "Sure. I guess so.  Just be ready around 4."  Four seemed early, but maybe we would go the museum first?  I had already reminded him the Crystal Bridges is open late on Friday nights, not Saturdays.

So he took the kids and I colored my hair.  I had time while my hair was processing to fuss with my toenails.  Thought about wearing blue nail polish to go with the blue dress in the closet.  Was unusually undecided about the color.  Mix and match?  Jamberry?  Hmm...better just shave my legs and call it good.  How about that bright coral color?  That works.  Toe nails, check.  Time to rinse the hair-color.  I wrapped up in a giant towel about the time Robb returned looking smirky.  "I have a surprise for you."

I walked into our room to find a Stitchfix box on the bed with the contents laid out on the bed.

"What did you do?"  I asked, delighted.  What a fun gesture!  Discovering new clothes and the most adorable shoes!   I held up the three dresses and set aside the one he said was his favorite to try on last.  I bubbled, "Did you use my regular stylist?  How did you do this?  This is so fun!"  The dresses were young, light colored and fun.  I toyed with the neckline of the dress he liked, unlike anything I had ever worn, and figured, "If he likes this one, I'll wear it!" After all, it was only for dinner! Why not push aside any self-consciousness.  The shoes fit perfectly and were so comfortably and sassy.  I left the dress on while I dabbed on make-up, tried on jewelry, a little disoriented from diverging from my more normal routine of getting ready.  I was pleasantly surprised to see that my new hair color went nicely with the dress and I fumbled with lipsticks to get a look I liked, remarking to Robb that I was torn about what direction to go.  "Go with an orange."  he suggested.
"But I already have green jewelry."
"Change to the orange;  that will look good."

My spider senses shot me another message, "What if we are going to get family pictures taken? I mentioned that to him awhile ago.  'I love Nikki Toth's work', I had told him."  But then I reasoned, "The kids are all with their friends, though.  Surely he would want me to be in on the planning for that?  That can't be it...." And I brushed the thoughts away, unwilling to delve any deeper into my intuition lest I figure it ALL out and ruin his surprise. (is there an irony font?)

I dabbed my fingernails with the coral nail polish, closely avoiding getting it on my dress.  I rolled my eyes at my nearly incurable tomboyishness.  I mentioned aloud for probably the 100th time in our marriage, "I'm just no good at girlie stuff.  It's like I failed girl-class. I never know how to use all those products...."  My voice trailed off as I applied mascara, a nod to the special occasion, albeit an afterthought as he emerged from our room with his own things. "I got myself something new to wear too. I figured it would be fun to be all dressed up in new things."

Looking back, I realize he was ironing a new white shirt to go with the fun and quirky seersucker pants he proudly found on clearance.  He looked adorable. And I said so.  By then I was just sort of wandering around...ready to go and wondering why he was taking so long?  "Let's take some selfies!"   he offered. "Ok!"  I figured he knew I like to not feel rushed.  So whatever our plans were, we could take as much time as we needed to get there.  We stepped outside and tried to get my shoes in the picture, employing a selfie-stick, while he had a few messages pop up on his phone.  I figured they were from Derek or Scott about church in the morning.

The crazy wall of Arkansas' August heat hit us in the face as we snapped photos and I thought to grab a vintage cotton hankie to dab my glistening face. And then finally, we were headed out to the car.

"I'm going to play the song list that makes me think of you."  He tapped his phone and started the songs we've listened to together for years, bringing back waves of memories.

Near the highway, he pulled into the gas station claiming he had to go. "Too much water to drink today."  I raised an eyebrow at that.  It wasn't THAT far to the museum.  But then I picked up my phone to Instagram one of the photos we had just taken. The music started again as we crossed the bridge to reach the highway where he turned onto the southbound ramp instead of the northbound.  My hands began to sweat nervously.

"We are going south."
"Yup."

I was genuinely confused for a moment before I collected myself and remembered.

Oh. Yes.  This is a surprise.  Our first date had been a surprise.  I felt the same nervous feeling of the unknown as I had that October night so long ago.  I smiled quizzically at him.  That night, fueled by nerves, I chattered like a squirrel before admitting guile-lessly, "I am SO nervous."  I remember him smiling at me that night, in the dark, in the back of the car on that double date, winding through the curvy roads of Pennsylvania.  We were eighteen years old. I remember that smile in perfect detail.  It was a smile that said, "I like surprising you. I like that you can say how you feel so freely."   He claims that he went home that night and told the guys in the dorm that he had met the girl he would marry.  I don't know if I believe him. But I know that after I said, "I am SO nervous!"   I wasn't nervous anymore. Not about him.  Not about where he was taking me.  Not about saying how I felt.  We had so much fun that night on that Haunted Hayride. And I knew that whatever was coming was going to be so. much. fun.

Moments later, he exited the highway down a familiar road.  My brain couldn't help trying to solve the puzzle, and I reasoned, "A party. A party at the Freeman's house. "  We passed their street.

"A party at Luke and Natalie Freeman's house." I clarified to myself.

From the car speakers,  the singer crooned,
Marry me
Today and every day
Marry me
If I ever get the nerve to say
Hello in this cafe
Say you will...

Robb slowed the car and began to turn, not into the curve I expected, but opposite. Down a driveway I knew.

"I just want you to know how much I love you. " He said gently, watching my face as I tried to form thoughts to catch the emotion rising in my throat.

The sign before the bridge said "Closed for an event."  Sunlight filtered through the dark tree-leaves,
and the car cooled under the shade of them as we crossed the narrow bridge across the gurgling creek.

"What did you do?"  I whisper - cried.

The parking lot was full of cars.
Chairs set up in front of the stone chapel.

Time slowed down as I captured the image of a beaming crowd of people under bright umbrellas in the glowing sunlight.  They seemed to be holding their breath while I tried to take them all in, my eyes reading them from left to right, line by line, and then down the path that led to the parking lot where Robb glided to a stop before our children.

Is this a crazy place to note that I didn't not expect to see our children on our date?

Especially not dressed so beautifully, holding out bouquets of flowers... bouquets like they carry in a wedding...

And then my eyes fell on my parents.... for the first time in a year, standing under the shade of the trees like a gift waiting to be given.

They were holding Whimsy, newly awaked from a nap with sleepy, sweaty curls stuck to her neck.  How could she be so happy when she hadn't napped before Robb took her out with the other kids? I think slowly when I am surprised.

Nikki Toth, her camera alive and clicking, came into my line of focus, and any self-consciousness melted away. I knew her eye, the sensitivity of her photo-journalistic style of work and I trusted her to help me take in every detail I was going to need to re-live those electrically charged moments.

It is a rarity (for me at least?) to be completely present in a moment.  All thought of yourself gone. All planning thoughts gone.  All summarizing thoughts, gone.  Instead, simply letting yourself be ushered on a wave of love into the next beautiful moment.  I think I asked someone if I was dying.  It must have been an incomprehensible question, but I think I felt like this was the new pinnacle moment of my life. That perhaps nothing could be more amazing than that moment, realizing that the dear ones around me had put such effort into creating something wondrous just for me. That I am indeed, surrounded by love. 

to be continued.....