MWS (4): The Confession

Before I start on the big question of “Should I purchase my dress from China?” I want to clarify something. I said before that I never dreamed of my wedding. I was kindly reminded by a friend that I did in fact have wedding day dreams. I’ve had this particular one for years, even. Everyone knew it and I was unabashed to share it. Here’s to my friends who knew these dreams. You guys are the real MVPs. Here goes:

My dream wedding gown was dark wash jeans, a nice white t-shirt (never worn before, of course, I’m not a savage), and high heels. I’d prance down whatever aisle I needed to (city hall!) with a bunch of specially selected friends and go out to eat at Red Robin afterwards (yum) and just celebrate. Receptions would follow, grand and delicious, on at least 2 different locations so friends wouldn’t be inconvenienced to travel to a faraway venue.

Sounds dreamy, doesn’t it? Notice that these plans didn’t include flavors of cake, color wheels, pinterest, or wedding dresses from China (this post is coming, I promise.) It was simple, inextravagant, cheap, and people-centric versus ME-centric.


Oh, and I also told some people that my future husband-to-be would have to drag me down the aisle kicking and screaming. Because he’d want it more than I did, and I knew how hard marriage can be, more than anyone. Even him.

Maybe my concept of what marriage was has changed. I will admit that my idea of nuptuals wasn’t the best. I’d heard plenty of unhappy stories from women who felt trapped in their marriages and I vowed I would not be one of those women. Whatever it took, I always yanked those rose-colored glasses off my face whenever I felt the world turning too flowery. Men typically had to work very hard to earn trust, particularly because by now, I’d developed a pretty keen eye for red flags and a pretty resolute will to walk away from anything and anyone, no matter how difficult.

And so I lived. No, I did not WAIT. People talk about ‘waiting for marriage’ like a person’s life is incomplete without a spouse. A blank space yearning for fulfillment. My parents’ greatest hope for me was that their hopeless daughter would find someone who would take care of her and grow old with her. I always figured I would have plenty of friends and animals to keep me company. And Jesus. What more can a girl need?

Turns out in this wide world there is someone I can trust, love, and walk with. Someone who thinks I am beautiful. Someone kind, gentle, and noble. Someone I don’t have to analyze and second-guess. And I’m marrying him, folks. In a big white dress. In a couple of dresses, actually.

Before I finish, I want to reiterate that my love language is service. It is hard for me to ask people to do things for me, and when they do, I am always floored. I would prefer to pay someone to do something (hence, wedding planner) than to ask for goodwill. I would prefer to serve on my wedding day than to be served. But there is humility in being served. You’d think kings and queens are poor examples of it, and they might be, but true services is double-edged. It is not only knowing how to serve, but knowing how to be served.


Thanks Jesus. For serious.




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