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  • Sonya Leigh Anderson


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Several people asked, the day of the wedding – how are you feeling? It was a question I asked, too. How am I feeling? What is this feeling? But I wasn’t quite sure what to say. Until the morning after. Sunday morning as I sat on my porch, a little hung over from the joy of it all, remembering and thinking. Savoring. And suddenly I knew. The answer.

I felt overwhelmed. By blessing.

So much good. So much beauty. So much love. So much God. Too much to process. And all day long it felt surreal, like a dream. Beyond comprehension. And I was lost in it.

These last two days I’ve been writing it down. Trying to remember and capture the details. A sentence here and a memory there. Not wanting to forget.

The bride, my new daughter. Stunning. Beyond words. And we weren’t supposed to, but we couldn’t help it; we saw from a distance Grant’s first look. His squeal of delight. Genuine joy on the face of the groom. My son.

The weather was perfect, and this was a miracle. Truly. A miracle. All day long we watched the forecast, hour by hour. 65 percent chance of rain at five. 90 percent chance at four. What should we do? Of course, we had a backup plan, but it wouldn’t be the same. Not with the exquisite view of fields and pond, arbor draped in eucalyptus and hydrangea. Everything perfect right where it was. And then at 3pm we looked again at the radar. And I’m telling you, only God could do this. No rain to be seen. Gone. And I was skeptical, praying for weather. But all evening guest after guest said the same. We prayed for no rain, and God answered.

They wrote us letters. Grant and Kiana, notes to their parents. They read them out loud to start the service, and of course they made us all cry. So much honor, so much blessing. No wonder I felt overwhelmed.

Luke cried most. Standing there as best man next to his brother, and later he apologized. Oh, Luke, if only you knew. Those tears speak volumes and they add to the story this day is meant to tell.

Every detail perfect. Almost. The music and message, communion and vows. Just one little glitch mid-service. A brother fainting, and dad catching, and we realize too late those rehearsal instructions about drinking water and not locking knees might not have made sense to Jimmy. Oops. But the boy’s resilient. A glass of water and a cool wet rag, and before we know it, there he is back up with the others to finish the service, like nothing happened. And a story to tell.

The bride and groom sang together, a favorite song of worship, and this might have been my favorite part. The Creed. A song declaring all they believe, and it’s not just words for this couple. It’s who they are.

I believe in God our Father I believe in Christ the Son I believe in the Holy Spirit Our God is three in one…

And all day long, every detail, tells this story more than any other. This young couple, now husband and wife, bringing glory to God, cherishing Jesus. Declaring their faith.

The reception was splendid, a tribute to the bride’s mom, whose gift for planning is beyond brilliant. Every detail, perfection. Shabby chic at its finest, burlap and blossom, woodsy and sparkling. Chandeliers hanging high from tent poles, twinkling lights everywhere, and it’s perfect. Perfect. Well done, Sherri. Well done.

The tent was bursting with friends and family, too many to greet in one night. And this is my one disappointment. My own fault, really. My first wedding, and it didn’t occur until later how little time there’d be to see each one and thank them. So thank you. For being there, and for loving us, and loving them. We couldn’t be more grateful.

There were bottles of IZZE to save for a toast and my sweet little niece kept asking – when are they bringing the bread? Her mom didn’t get it, but I did. She’s eager to drink that pink sparkling beverage, but she’s patiently waiting for toast.

And then. Brother Let Me be Your Shelter. Luke’s best man speech, and three brothers with guitars singing together. And once again, I’m overwhelmed by it all. All this blessing.

Later we danced. Mother and son, to a shared favorite song. David Crowder. And the words of this song say it all.

Oh, the glory of it all Is He came here For the rescue of us all That we may live For the glory of it all Oh, the glory of it all

And so we danced and we celebrated, sweaty with joy. Friends and family, brothers and cousins. Blessing upon blessing. And the next morning I write it, here in my journal. I am blessed, blessed, blessed. All day long people asked me how it felt and I couldn’t describe it, but this is it. BLESSED. Beyond words. How do you process so much blessing? I’ve been overwhelmed by many things in life, but this experience of being overwhelmed by blessing leaves me speechless.

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