Renewal of Vows, Part I: Lost in Blue

October 2nd, 2005 was a lot like October 1st, 1995: warm and sunny and beautiful.

As people arrived at the church, I felt nervous. And as people sat down, I began to feel self-conscious: was this whole thing a bit egotistical? What did people think of us for doing this? Was it too much?

The ceremony started. My boys walked up the aisle in perfect cadence. My four-year-old moved more slowly and deliberately than I’ve ever seen him. They both held pillows, upon which were our original wedding rings. My daughter followed the boys, slowly dropping handfuls of rose petals from side to side.

Father Mark started the service by addressing the fact that there are many faiths and many spiritual paths and that we should take a moment to consider how we, individually, coul move closer to God.. Clearly and rightly, he was acknowledging the fact that about 30% of the people in attendance were Jewish. He went on to talk about why we were here: that I had continued my spiritual journey, which had brought me to Jesus and the Spirit, and that two years ago, it was suggested that was take the Sacrament of Matrimony in the Church.

Then the ceremony got a little rough. My four-year-old started EATING the rose petals, and he and my daughter began bickering. One thing about my daughter: she does not quiet down. If you ask her to lower her voice, she repeats her complaint louder. My youngest alternated flower-eating with Pew Gymnastics. It was hard to concentrate on what was going on. Our friends did the readings, Father Mark read the Gospel. Maggie and I were called to the altar, leaving the kids to be managed by relatives in the row behind us. We stood in front of the altar, faced Father Mark, and were asked to confirm our intentions. We did. Then we were asked to face each other.

And suddenly, without transition, I was lost in the deep and perfect blue of Maggie’s eyes.

What had been a religious ceremony transformed into a true profession of unity, love, and mutual service. A Sacrament. I have never been so present and in the moment, and while I’ve taken vows before, I don’t think I really knew what that meant.

I do now.

Over the last 10 years (until two years ago), Maggie has watched her husband change, and usually not for the better. An alcoholic husband can create tremendous uncertainty and fear and instability. And while I kept it together from a parenting and financial standpoint, Maggie and I were solidly on the path to Not Making It. These last two years have been much more than a return to sobriety. It’s been a rebuilding. And it’s not a coincidence that I came into the church a few months before I got sober.

Over the last two years, I’ve come to understand what it means to be present, to be a husband, and, slowly, to realize that being happy is more important than proving my point all the time.

Please note: I suck at this, a lot of the time. I can be grumpy, irritable, self-seeking, and impatient. But I’m honestly trying to do better on a daily basis. And I can see the changes. The best and greatest sign of this, though, was when Maggie told me:

“You’re becoming the man I married again.”

The Sacrament of Marriage is all about helping your partner get to heaven: whatever heaven may be. And regardless of what heaven turns out to be, my job remains the same.

Love to all. Even you, Mr. No-Way-Out.