The scene that was the wedding day seemed to play out in a directed concoction of met and exceeded expectations.
The drive to the temple excitement, reception stress, hair problems, sheer happiness, craziness of actually getting married, tears of joy, laughter of a final dance, a humorously awkward drive to the hotel—they all appeared right on queue center stage during a perfect wedding day.
But there was one actor that did not play a part.
Not only was I surprised—but shocked.
I had him cast as a lead.
The villain’s name?
It was an omission, which left a (former) singular audience of one giving a standing ovation.
But I was not alone in my pleasantly unmet expectation.
Who else was flabbergasted?
Oh, let’s say just about everyone who knows me.
See, the week after I got engaged my father called me for a chat.
“Son, you are going to have doubts and be afraid sometime between now and the wedding. You may want to run Just get through it. It will pass. You found yourself someone really special and everything will be okay.”
So I hunkered down in my seat and waited, with a fixed determination to outwit the frightened scoundrel.
I knew it would come eventually. After all, my entire life I was accused of being someone who had a fear of commitment.
The inevitability of the fear from jumping into the biggest eternal commitment of my entire life (and eternity), was getting closer and closer.
It is simply a matter of time, I doubtlessly thought.
…but it never did.
It was as if I showed up to the battlefield ready for war and was met by a middle school theater class fieldtrip who offered to share their lunches with me.
Even moments before the ceremony, my trepidation for a surprise entrance was evident.
On the drive to the temple with Annie, I turned to her and asked, ‘How do you feel?’
‘Me too…? Aren’t we supposed to feel—scared or something?’
‘Not when it’s right, I guess.’
Ah, and there it is.
Turns out, I wasn’t afraid of committing, but just committing to the wrong person.
A wedding day is the intermission of the eternal play that is our existence. It gives us a moment to just be completely present in between everything that has taken place from our pre-earth life, birth and life and everything that will take place from our death to forever after.
This is not to say that I wasn’t afraid of commitment at other times in my life or that cold feet is a foreboding omen, for everyone goes through their own wedding scene, but rather that sometimes,
“it” can be easy.
Yes, while I expect staying in love will be work, falling in love was easy. Some might even call it play.
So don’t fear if you feel fear—it might not be you, it might just be that you haven’t found them. (And a simple way to tell if it is you…pray to fall in love and see if you mean it.)