Friday, January 23, 2015

The Dress


It's only 33 days from the big I DO! To be honest, I thought the nerves were going to kick in and override the excitement by now, but that has yet to happen. Perhaps because there is still so much to do! No worries, our weekend is devoted to checking off items of our Wedding to do list. So, if you were thinking of calling and inviting us to a fantastic evening full of laughter and deep conversations, I regret to inform you that we would probably say no. But perhaps our arm could be twisted. 

I digress.

Shopping for the wedding attire was seriously one of the most painful experiences of this all. Long story short: I went dress shopping. (This experience was only bearable because I have a bestie who knows how to make me laugh and can convince me I look beautiful even when I feel very far from anything resembling beauty.) I found nothing. Through blood, sweat and tears I finally found a dress. The catch, it was in a far, far away place. After patiently waiting a over month, it arrived on my doorsteps, and I was excited. Then, I tried it on. It needed some major adjustments. I had my doubts, many doubts. But, I found a tailor who hopefully could make this dress work. I picked up the dress 2 weeks ago, and again, I was excited. Only to find, I still had no love for this dress on me … because it still didn't fit right. My tailor was wonderful and assured me after a second round of alterations (that she didn't even charge me for) that it would be perfect. I smiled and nodded. Then I left, and the tears started to flow. 

I'm not proud of this moment.

One, it's a dress. I was crying over a freaking dress. Yes, I understand it's my wedding dress and for some odd reason we have elevated what we wear and how we look above all else on this day. But it was still just a dress …

and,

… two, I immediately left and went shopping for a second option, because I had little faith that it would be perfect.

As I carried a load of clothes into the dressing room, I stopped and laughed at the absurdity of it all. I sat down and had a heart to heart with the Man in charge. I left the dressing room without trying on anything, got in my car and headed home. I admit I can tend to be a control freak, and this, for the time being was out of my control. I had to trust that it would all be ok. (And if not, then freak out) 

Needless to say, I picked the dress up this week (for the second time I mind you) and my worries and tears were for naught. The dress, may not be perfect, but I have fallen in love with it and cannot wait to stand by Melinda. As I left the shop that day, for the first time the seamstress seemed chatty. She asked a lot of questions and seemed to have genuine excitement for me and my NYC wedding. She even shared stories of her own daughter getting married in Grand Central Station and ended the conversation with, "this dress will be perfect for the pictures. It's all about the pictures."

We have become a people about “the picture.” I mean look at my own FB wall. It's covered. Even last night, I was so excited about trying a new pioneer woman recipe that fit our current strict food list, and I did this:





and this:


I mean, why tell you how yummy this was when I can show you a picture!

So often with our snazzy technology we miss the opportunity of being present in the moment, so that we can capture a picture and share it with the world. And even though I will be forever grateful to have a dear friend not only sharing in this day with us, but sharing his talents as a photographer, and I will be more than excited to add to our picture wall, a photo of me with my lady, and even thrilled to share these memories with you all, truth be told, not even a picture could capture the essence of this day. A day where we come before the Creator of all things, and make an everlasting promise, come hell or high water, to join our lives as one, living as an example of Christ's love for His church, his people, his beloved. A day to be present. A day not to miss this holy moment that pictures will not able to capture. 

That's what He whispered into my heart in that dressing room …

It’s not about the dress.

Does my human flesh wrestle with having the prefect dress, the flawless hair, and being that stunning bride. Sure it does. But my soul knows, that it is in His presence, standing beside Melinda and vowing our lives together for His honor is the only thing that makes a bit of difference that day. 

So to my cute little seamstress, thank you for helping me fall in love with a dress that was rather unlovable. However, it will be the posture of our hearts, I pray to be picture perfect that day. 

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