1,095 days ago I was getting ready. My hair was done, my makeup on. It was time for the dress.
The dress every woman wonders about and plans for.
It was a cold, clear day. Sun shone and reflected off of the freshly fallen snow. I climbed into the car with my best friend. Off to the Church, with a little champagne for the road. You see, he was waiting for me.
Three years ago I walked down the aisle and together we said “fiat” to what would come next, not knowing what our future could possibly hold. All we knew was to cling to Him, the author of all life and of our love. To cling to Love.
Over the last three years there have been so many blessings. Jobs. A home. Two babies, one in Heaven and one here to hold. There have been trials too. The suffering of losing a child. The pain and uncertainty of waiting more than a year for another blessing.
On January 3, 2009, however, we didn’t know what would be in store. All we knew as we left St. Peter’s Cathedral was that God had tethered us together as one for all our lives. All. The beautiful, the messy, the tragic, and the sublime. The mundane, the diaper changes, the nights of rocking a sleepless baby, and of smiling under blankets at the prospect of many more years to share.
At our reception, Atticus’ dad gave a toast, since he was the best man. In part he read a poem, one which he hoped would be true for us.
The Master Speed
No speed of wind or water rushing by
But you have a speed far greater. You can climb
Back up a stream of radiance to the sky,
And back through history up the stream of time.
And you were given this swiftness, not for haste
Nor chiefly that you may go where you will.
But in the rush of everything to waste,
That you may have the power of standing still—
Off any still or moving thing you say.
Two such as you with a master speed
Cannot be parted nor be swept away
From one another once you are agreed
That life is only life forevermore
Together wing to wing and oar to oar.
I started this post with an image of Raphael’s Transfiguration, which we saw at the Vatican Museum. The room in which the painting is housed is dark, and at the center shines the brilliant light of the transfigured Christ. It is breathtaking.
On the back wall of the church in which we were married, a copy of the same Transfiguration painting appears. It reminds me of what the vocation of marriage is all about. Working with your spouse to increase the holiness of you both, and of the family. To become more like Christ. To help your spouse do the same. To be transfigured.
As we embark on day 1,096 and onward, I pray that God will make us more like He is.
I have a wonderful example in this man. Thank you and Happy Anniversary my love.