Christian Living

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Larry Lilly's Letter Tuesday September 2, 2008

The Great Blonde and I just returned from a trip celebrating the 44th anniversary of our wedding. We had an enjoyable time and decided to fight on to at least the 50th, the Lord willing.

Joyce and I have a different kind of relationship and marriage. I asked for her hand in marriage the first time I saw her. She of course refused and further refused to serve the meal I ordered. I was ordering a bit of food in the diner which her mother ran at the time. After many years of wearing her down, we were finally married on 29th of August in the year of our Lord 1964. The events of the day still vibrate vividly in my mind and heart.

For starters the dear girl was 20 minutes late for this most important date. The preacher was putting his marriage ceremony manual on the shelf, when a breathless woman rushed into his office proclaiming, "She IS Here!" My last hope was gone. During the wait I had remarked to the learned pastor that I felt like I supposed President Truman must have felt when he waited while General MacArthur made his grand entrance to Wake Island.

We rushed to our places at the front of the church, the grandparents were seated, the groom's mother, and then the bride's mother took her place of honor and we, the males, there only for the purpose of decoration, took our place at the front of the church.

As the ring bearers made their entrance and the doors at the back of the church closed, a moment of suspense, and voila, the doors swung open, and to the center stood the gorgeous girl who in a few moments was to become the wife of my fondest dreams, veiled to keep her glow from causing a radiation like burn to gathered well wisher, and a few who somehow knew deep in their heart, that ole Larry will begin a tough lesson today.

The organ struck the note, the crowd stood and in my mind I heard the wedding march "Here Comes The Bride." I fought back the beginning of a tear of joy and of fear. The gorgeous one was near half way down the aisle when I knew I was in trouble. The pastor was gasping for fresh air, a few rather prim and proper ladies were covering their mouths with the fans from the funeral home, and several men seemed to be in the grip a new kind of stroke.

The organist was NOT playing the familiar "Here Comes The Bride" but instead was playing, rather stridently, "Hail To The Chief!" The sweet and teen bride was striding down the aisle like Hannibal marching over the Alps. You certainly recall the famous picture of General MacArthur wadding ashore at Leyte Island announcing "I have returned."

I admit to having lived in a paralyzing fear of her over the years, yet somehow I love her. I guess this says a lot about the debilitated state of my mind since that terrifying day in August 1964.

Yes, Joyce and I, through the power of Jesus and my utter cowardice; do in fact get along. I would be a fool not to.

Larry Lilly Copyright © 2008 Use with credit.

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