Do you remember going to Disney as a child? The sheer butterflies and wonderment that you felt in your stomach as you got to the parking lot? And how everything felt special—after every ride you would shout about the drops and twists in excitement. And what it felt like really was…magic?
Every year, Matt and I go to Leu Gardens (where we got married) on Valentines Day. Every year walking the same paths we took on our wedding day brings back so many memories. And every year, as we sit under the tree where took our vows and gave ourselves up for each other, I feel that Disney-as-a-child feeling. The butterflies, the wonderment, the excitement…the magic.
(And let me just say, our wedding day was not without its flaws)…
It was my wedding day and I was completely ready: hair, makeup, my gown was on. Suddenly, there was a knock on my door. I open the door— it’s Matts brother. “There’s been an accident,” he says. I stare at him. “But Matt’s OK.” I keep staring at him. And then I shut the door without a word. ‘As long as Matt is at the end of that aisle,’ I thought to myself.
Suddenly my dad was walking me down the aisle, which was on the lawn of the Leu Museum, in between a row of two sections of chairs, leading to a giant oak tree that Matt and I would stand under as we made our covenant in marriage to each other. Matt was there waiting for me and took my hands. His left hand was wrapped in gauze and tape.
While the boys were getting ready, Matt had tried to display the knives he was giving as a gift for his groomsmen in a block of solid wood. As he jammed a knife into the block of wood, it ricocheted into the bathroom mirror and straight into his hand, exposing his tendon. His best friend Luke was an Air Force medic and got the bleeding to slow down enough for the ceremony.
After the ceremony ended, our guests went to cocktail hour and we took pictures. In most of the photos, Matt’s hand is hidden behind my flowers or in a pocket. Haha. Shortly after we were introduced at our reception, Matt went with a physician friend outside for what I THOUGHT was getting some quick stitches. I made the rounds to our guests to make sure people were greeted.
But he was gone for a VERY long time.
My mom went out on the porch when she saw Matt with his mom and our doctor friend. He was laying on a table. GRAY. “That’s it!” she thought. “ITS OVER! Matt is dead.”
She ran to my sister. “STEPHANIE WHATEVER YOU DO, KEEP MORGAN INSIDE.”
So for the first HOUR of our marriage I was the world’s WORST WIFE, and hadn’t a clue that my husband was in shock and gray on a table. #iswearidontlovethedramaitlovesme
Eventually Matt came back (still no one told me what happened) and joined the party.
At the end of our wedding, we hopped inside our limo— but instead of our nice long limo ride to the airport, it dropped us off at the hospital right around the corner. We were definitely the stars of the ER.
…Fast forward almost four years later, just like every other Valentine’s Day night, we drove to the garden, walked the long path to the Leu Museum, picnic basket in hand, and made our way to our tree.
Except last night, when we got to the lawn, what we found was a giant, dirt-filled hole in place of our tree.
Our wedding tree was gone.
I. SOBBED.
Our place. Our place that was so thrilling yet safe, and what seemed would make a permanent symbol in our life was gone. I loved thinking about our wedding while sitting in this place. Those surreal feelings I have every time I’m here, where I experienced a dream coming true, would I feel those feelings again without our real place? This was my favorite tradition, to sit under the stars together and to remember and feel. And suddenly it was over, or, at least changed. On our walk to the lawn we had even talked about bringing our kids here in the future to show them where we were married. Now was there a point in bringing them?
Fear immediately took over me and dangerous thoughts came creeping in. What I didn’t want losing our tree to be was symbolic of our marriage changing, or being torn- down.
It isn’t.
Just as our marriage isn’t based off of a freak accident on our wedding day, our marriage is a covenant with an unchanging God, firmly rooted in the Lord and cannot be torn or blown away with Christ as our center. It is true that many things in life change. But what is eternal, like our promises with God, and our hope in heaven, those cannot be taken from us.
“Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for He who promised is faithful.”
“The grass withers, the flower fades, but the Word of the Lord stands forever,” Isaiah 40:8
All photos by KT Crabb Photography
Morgan Whaley 