“If it took Brother ten years to be sure you were the one, how did you finally convince him to say ‘I do’?”
As your sister asked the question, in my mind’s eye, I could see you sitting there in your spot by the fireplace, looking over your shoulder to the couch where we were sitting, with a smile on your face and a twinkle in your eye as your eye met mine.
“I didn’t convince him. The Maker did. I owe my life as Mrs. Sanchez to Him. He’s the one who got my man in a “yes” mood.”
Then, I proceeded to tell her our story.
How, after 10 years of being your best friend, I longed to be your best helpmate. How, after 10 years of being your girlfriend, I longed to be your wife. How, after 10 years of saying goodnight each night, I longed to say good morning, each morning. How, after 10 years of hearing students address me as “Miss Mitchell” I longed to hear “Mrs. Sanchez” over and over, all day long. How after 10 years of being you and me, I longed to be “us”.
I was sure. So very sure. But, you. You had to be sure. Marriage was sacred and holy. Not to be entered into lightly. Not to be exited out of once vows were spoken.
“Take all the time you need.” I had told you. “After all, what’s another 10 years?!”
But, at night, when it was just the Lord and me, I prayed if this truly was a union made in Heaven, He would speak it to your heart.
“So, what happened?” your sister wanted to know. “How did God convince him?”
Again, in my mind’s eye, I could see that so familiar smile on your face and twinkle in your eye, as I remembered the day my doorbell rang and I found you standing at my front door.
“Ok. Let’s do it.”
“Get married. Let’s do it. What are we waiting on?”
“Really? Are you sure? We can wait until you’re sure. I don’t want you to feel any pressure to . . .”
But, before I could finish what I was saying, you gently, and oh so tenderly kissed me.
“I want to marry you, Beautiful. YOU. No one else. You. I know you are the one God has for me.”
Then, you proceeded to tell me your story.
How, driving in the mountains, with the windows down and the radio up, you were seeking God with all your heart. How, spending time alone with God, you prayed for God to speak His plans for us loud and clear. How, turning onto a little dirt road, with your heart listening for His answer, your tuned your radio to a different station with a stronger signal just as Alabama starting sing this song:
And, you knew.
The Maker said take her – and, you did.
And, after 10 years of being Steve and Stacy, we became “us” –
Mr and Mrs. Steve Sanchez.
Only God could have convinced you to marry me.
And me, I will forever be thankful to our Maker, for granting me the desire of my heart, to marry you, my handsome honey, and be your wife.
I would be more than happy to still be
standing by your side,
lying by your side,
praying by your side,
laughing by your side,
living by your side –
telling you goodnight, each night –
and good morning, each morning.
But, the very same Maker who told you to take me as your wife, has now taken you.
And while my heart longs for you back, how can I ever begin to argue with The Maker who gave me such a precious gift in you?
Through you, He has proven to me His ways are perfect. Perfectly perfect.
And in this – me, here without you, especially in this, I have to believe this to be true, and keep right on thanking the Maker who makes all things beautiful in His time.
Wishing I could thank you, too, Handsome. Wish I could thank you over and over again for listening to His voice and saying “I do”.
If only I could tell you. If only I could . . .