On May 21, 1994, I stood on a stage and watched Lorrie Miller walk down the aisle. We thought we were so progressive by not using Mendelssohn’s traditional Wedding March, but rather Trumpet Voluntary, but then the trumpet player played it like he had his lips removed and it sounded awful. But it didn’t matter because Lorrie looked stunning. We exchanged vows, rings and heard True Companion. #marccohn We kissed and were married.
It wasn’t complete perfection. The rings were run in by an usher who then purposefully tripped up the stairs (An ongoing college friends’ prank). And neither Lorrie nor I noticed that she had placed my ring on the wrong hand. Not kidding. We have our wedding pictures to prove it. But it was our wedding. And our friends and family were there. And as I drove off with my wife I thought “now, life begins”.
And it did. Since that day we have lived in two states, seven houses, two townhouses and one farmhouse that we shared with a retired Navy officer and his dog named Wafles (No, not Waffles). Over the last 24 years, we’ve had two kids, had eight dogs grace our homes, multiple fish, hamsters, and guinea pigs, and one frog. We have served in two churches, buried one parent, traveled all over the world and yet, I still feel our lives have just begun.
In the words of Journey, “Loving a music man ain’t always what it’s supposed to be…” and, “Loving a preacher man ain’t always what it’s supposed to be.” You’ve followed me across the country, you’ve had to be my shoulder for many disappointments, bruised egos, bombed messages, and critical comments. But you’ve continued to show the right balance of empathy, sympathy, and sometimes “get over yourself”. I don’t know how you do it. You’ve had to put up with endless dinners and conversations with people where they only wanted to talk to “the pastor” and they overlooked you. But they were the ones who missed out! Because for all those who get to know you, they discover a loyal friend, a constant source of joy and laughter and an unconditional love for all people. (And a good dose of sarcasm.)
You’re an unbelievable mother, a wonderful wife, my ultimate best friend, the joy in our home and my true companion. And if the next 24 years are even half as good as the first, I’ll be blessed enough for several lifetimes. I love you. Happy Anniversary.