Can you believe that? Well, the kids thought it was pretty cool.”
“That's awesome.”
We talk some more, and since Josh was enjoying such a high about his successful fund-raiser, I didn't have the heart to tell him about the disappointing shopping day I'd had with his mother. I knew it could wait. Or maybe I could even e-mail him about it later.
It was only after I hung up that it occurred to me that the same amount of money these high school kids raised-enough to feed ten to fifteen starving Mexican children for several months-was about the same cost as the wedding dress I'd been talked into purchasing yesterday. And the idea of this just made me feel sick.
Jenny is still asleep and I decide to take a walk since the weather had cleared slightly. And as I walk, I pray. I ask for God to guide me through this whole wedding thing. More than anything, I want our wedding to honor God. And I know that my actions yesterday were not heading in that direction.
It's funny too, because I'm not the kind of girl who everyone can push around so easily. I mean, I'll admit that I like to make people happy and I sometimes try too hard to help others. But I don't usually compromise my own standards or convictions along the way. Still, I cansee how it will be challenging with Josh's mom. She's such a strong and persuasive person. A little like a steamroller. I guess I just need to learn to stand up to her. Not aggressively, but kindly and in love.
Finally, I come to my favorite thinking and praying bench, and although it's still wet, I sit down. The sermon at church today was about laying things down on God's altar. The Scripture was from the time when Abraham had to take Isaac up to the mountain as a sacrifice. Now I'm familiar with this story, and it's not the first time I've had to put something on God's altar. In fact, there was a time when I had to place Josh there. But today I know, as clearly as I know my own name, that I need to place our wedding on God's altar. I need to give all my hopes and dreams and expectations to God. I need to lay the perfect dress and location and reception and music and invitations and decorations…all on God's altar.
I sit there for a long time, with the dampness from the bench soaking right into my jeans, and I imagine myself doing just this. I see myself placing the whole bundle of satin and lace and roses and pastel colors and veils and shoes all on the altar. And then I lift up the knife and I kill them. God doesn't even send in an alternative sacrifice (like he did for Abraham) to stop me. I just kill them.
The funny thing is that I feel better when these wedding dreams are dead. I don't care if there's blood all over the white satin. It's just a huge relief. And as I stand up and thank God for this revelation, I imaginemyself wearing a gunnysack dress and carrying a dandelion bouquet as I walk down the aisle toward Josh. And I am perfectly fine with this. All that I want is God's will.
I call the Miller house on my cell phone then. I'm ready to tell Joy that as much as I appreciate her help and input, I know without a doubt that the dress needs to be returned. Period. No discussion. I will apologize for the inconvenience and even explain how I want this wedding to be God directed. But I will be firm.
To my surprise Josh answers. “It's you.”
He laughs. “Caitlin?”
“Yes, I'm sorry. I guess I expected your mom to answer.”
“Oh.” He sounds disappointed now, and I feel bad.
“Not that I don't want to talk to you.”
“Oh, good. The parents are out at the moment.”
“It's just that I needed to talk to your mom.”
“Is something wrong?”
“Sort of.” And so I tell him the humiliating story of how I was a total pushover yesterday. I even tell him about lunch, and how I was hungry after grazing on greens. “That probably didn't help anything.”
Of course, he's laughing now. “Poor Caitie. But good grief, girl. What is wrong with you? You do NOT need to lose any
“That's awesome.”
We talk some more, and since Josh was enjoying such a high about his successful fund-raiser, I didn't have the heart to tell him about the disappointing shopping day I'd had with his mother. I knew it could wait. Or maybe I could even e-mail him about it later.
It was only after I hung up that it occurred to me that the same amount of money these high school kids raised-enough to feed ten to fifteen starving Mexican children for several months-was about the same cost as the wedding dress I'd been talked into purchasing yesterday. And the idea of this just made me feel sick.
Jenny is still asleep and I decide to take a walk since the weather had cleared slightly. And as I walk, I pray. I ask for God to guide me through this whole wedding thing. More than anything, I want our wedding to honor God. And I know that my actions yesterday were not heading in that direction.
It's funny too, because I'm not the kind of girl who everyone can push around so easily. I mean, I'll admit that I like to make people happy and I sometimes try too hard to help others. But I don't usually compromise my own standards or convictions along the way. Still, I cansee how it will be challenging with Josh's mom. She's such a strong and persuasive person. A little like a steamroller. I guess I just need to learn to stand up to her. Not aggressively, but kindly and in love.
Finally, I come to my favorite thinking and praying bench, and although it's still wet, I sit down. The sermon at church today was about laying things down on God's altar. The Scripture was from the time when Abraham had to take Isaac up to the mountain as a sacrifice. Now I'm familiar with this story, and it's not the first time I've had to put something on God's altar. In fact, there was a time when I had to place Josh there. But today I know, as clearly as I know my own name, that I need to place our wedding on God's altar. I need to give all my hopes and dreams and expectations to God. I need to lay the perfect dress and location and reception and music and invitations and decorations…all on God's altar.
I sit there for a long time, with the dampness from the bench soaking right into my jeans, and I imagine myself doing just this. I see myself placing the whole bundle of satin and lace and roses and pastel colors and veils and shoes all on the altar. And then I lift up the knife and I kill them. God doesn't even send in an alternative sacrifice (like he did for Abraham) to stop me. I just kill them.
The funny thing is that I feel better when these wedding dreams are dead. I don't care if there's blood all over the white satin. It's just a huge relief. And as I stand up and thank God for this revelation, I imaginemyself wearing a gunnysack dress and carrying a dandelion bouquet as I walk down the aisle toward Josh. And I am perfectly fine with this. All that I want is God's will.
I call the Miller house on my cell phone then. I'm ready to tell Joy that as much as I appreciate her help and input, I know without a doubt that the dress needs to be returned. Period. No discussion. I will apologize for the inconvenience and even explain how I want this wedding to be God directed. But I will be firm.
To my surprise Josh answers. “It's you.”
He laughs. “Caitlin?”
“Yes, I'm sorry. I guess I expected your mom to answer.”
“Oh.” He sounds disappointed now, and I feel bad.
“Not that I don't want to talk to you.”
“Oh, good. The parents are out at the moment.”
“It's just that I needed to talk to your mom.”
“Is something wrong?”
“Sort of.” And so I tell him the humiliating story of how I was a total pushover yesterday. I even tell him about lunch, and how I was hungry after grazing on greens. “That probably didn't help anything.”
Of course, he's laughing now. “Poor Caitie. But good grief, girl. What is wrong with you? You do NOT need to lose any
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