It’s quite a large thought, and it hasn’t previously been quite so. Of course it was large at the time of initiation, but it really began to loom when we were all standing on the stage at Grace tonight, rehearsing. My friends and her friends, all gathered to ring in our new life together.

That’s right. Completely new. No going back, even if perchance I wanted to.

No matter how pleasant the thought is (and it’s very), its size persists.

We’ve both made new friendships this weekend, and reestablished old ones. I’ve heard from some people that planned to come but couldn’t, some that are on their way but their flight was delayed thrice and cancelled, and some that weren’t going to come but now are.

And it’s been a blast.

Mom made the rehearsal dinner and trucked it all down from Baltimore to serve tonight: Maryland Crab Soup and — from Central PA — Chicken Corn Soup, representing both sides of my heritage thus far. I’ve been back and forth trying on tuxedos, helping to eyelet wedding programs together, discoursing late into the night with a mostly-new friend about Theology and Legalism and the like, and trying to exist while recovering from what can only be described as an intense stomach virus contracted at the beginning of the week. Nerves don’t help that sort of thing, either.

And now I’m at home, trying to put it all together on this old Dell of Jennifer’s because I left my laptop at her parents’ house. I’m preparing to start my new life, and attempting to not let family, friends, and the ceremony and it’s trappings get in the way of what’s really important, namely, my wife-to-be and our impending happiness.

Mostly it’s all going according to plan. Sure, things have cropped up here and there. But we’re hanging tight, and hanging on to each other, and to Him. Because none of it’s going to work without that.

There’s an old house in Easley that’s been converted into a quaint little restaurant. Behind the house is a little cottage that at one time served as the servant’s quarters. Through circumstances that could easily be described as Providential, I’ve been offered residence in the cottage for a very reasonable amount. It’s not very big, but it’s big enough for me and my currently-meager possessions.

So, come April 22nd, I’ll have a new neighborhood to explore, new people to meet, and a new, every-day-or-so phase of a relationship to appreciate. All of which excites me. And I’m also interested to learn all I can about the historic dwelling that will be in my front yard (they say it’s haunted).

I’ve never mentioned Jennifer’s last name on this site, mostly out of deference to her own web anonymity. That point will shortly be moot, though, since her surname will soon become Bergey. In just under a year, to be (nearly) exact.

Yes, you heard read right. As should be patently obvious from the previous post, I asked her to marry me.

I used to be afraid that when the Lord finally showed me His choice, He’d have left something out — like maybe she’d be a musician, but couldn’t appreciate my web geekiness. Or maybe she’d love to read, but might not share any of my musical tastes. Or we’d have drastically different ideas about what a family should be like.

I shouldn’t have worried. When the Lord sets you up with your perfect match, He takes all your hopes and dreams into account. Even the little ones you didn’t think were important enough to bother with.

Neither of us were looking. I first saw her comment on this entry (don’t ever delete that post, Pau) and clicked through to aelki.com. I was intrigued by her writing style, her insight, her humor, and yes, her looks. (What on earth did she see in me? You’ll have to ask her that yourself.)

After much consultation and advice-seeking with parents — and grandparents — I shocked her by flying to her home state to ask her to dinner. I’ve been back many times. She’s been here once. We’ve talked on the phone almost every night about everything under the sun. And when my parents and I drove down to visit her family in SC earlier this month and had such a marvelous time feeling like we’d all always known each other, I knew it was something that was meant to be. So I asked her.

We’re planning to be married next January. Special thanks to Cingular, Independence Air, BrownPau, and 1800Flowers.com, so far. And of course to the One who orchestrated the whole thing.

I don’t mean to brag, and I don’t mean to gloat.
I’m not going to say stuff to capsize your boat.
I don’t mean to be tasteless and therefore I won’t.
But, see, I’ve got her, and you people don’t.