This is not a cooking from scratch food post. I guess you could call it a getting-married-from-scratch blog post. My husband, David, & I got married 40 years ago on June 14, 1975. It was very definitely a do-it-ourselves event. Our wedding was a very extraordinary event that I would like to share.
Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock.
Matthew 7: 24-25
Expectations. The American Heritage dictionary defines expectations as prospects, especially of success or gain or eager anticipation of something. There are expectations, high expectations, in every niche and corner of life. However, expectations need to be managed and based on a secure foundation. The loftier and more daring the expectation or dream, the stronger the foundation needs to be. Some of us have high expectations -- others of us have lowered our expectations so that we are prepared in case of a fall or so we can be pleasantly surprised if it turns out better than expected. Some of us are in the position to manage the expectations of others. If we manage those expectations well, we can head off disappointment and complaints and disillusionment. All of us have expectations for just about every facet of our lives. We have expectations for our children or spouse or our friends. Setting our expectations so that they are just right can be risky.
When David and I made our wedding plans 40 years ago in 1975, we each had many expectations about what the wedding day itself would be like and what we each expected from our marriage to each other. I had expectations of a perfect wedding day that would begin a wonderful life of perfect love. The wedding would take place at 3:00 PM on a beautiful June day in Illinois. The day would be not too hot, but sunny and bright with a slight hint of a breeze. We would be married on the lovely, green, expansive lawn at my parents’ Illinois farm. Of course if the weather didn’t cooperate, we would be married in the quaint little church that my parents attended and in which I grew up located about 5 miles away in town. I would be wearing a wreath of flowers in my hair and the simple cream colored gown that I had sewn myself. David would wear his new light blue suit. There would be a harpsichord playing Baroque music as my father led me to the front to meet David where he would be standing with my bridesmaid, the best man, and the minister. Jim, a very talented, childhood & lifelong friend of mine would play his guitar and sing "If Not For You" by Bob Dylan and then two special songs by Tom Paxton, my college room-mate’s uncle. We obtained special permission to use these songs, since they were not yet released on Tom’s latest album. All of the bridal party would be standing next to the sapling tree that David and I planted to symbolize the beginning of our life together. The minister would give a profound and touching homily comparing our marriage to that of the tree growing taller and stronger -- with roots firmly securing the tree and the branches growing and stretching and sprouting leaves as it experienced the seasons of life. Then David and I would look into each other’s eyes and recite from memory the special vows we had written. Afterwards there would be a joyful reception of a small group of relatives and close friends. There would be a lovely buffet of delicious food that my mother, sisters and I lovingly prepared. My father was arranging for some strolling musicians to play at the reception. The musicians would stroll from table to table while some of our guests danced to the music. It was a very romantic vision. It would be a day that all would remember for years to come. David and I would leave the reception hand in hand and drive off into the sunset together starting our lives together in wedded bliss...
...Now let me tell you what really happened. I can start by saying that it indeed was an event that all who attended still vividly remembers – even 40 years later. We almost didn’t get married -- at least legally, because the bureaucracy in the state of Illinois had a problem with the form from New York state with David’s blood test results. Our marriage license was issued, finally, at the last minute after a flurry of phone calls, tears and arguments. The night before the wedding, at our rehearsal dinner, my tee-totaling parents met David’s family for the first time as the Minich boys proceeded to get very drunk. David’s brother managed to wait until he got into the car before throwing up! I laid awake almost all night going over last minute details and just being nervous. The next morning as my mother, sisters, several girlfriends and I finished the food preparations, one of my sisters, in a rather unloving tone, informed me that she was not pleased with all the work it took to prepare the food and that I was truly selfish for insisting that all the food be homemade – and maybe I was being selfish. One thing that I simply do not remember about the wedding was exactly what it was that we ate!
It was a perfect sunny day as I had visualized. We set up the several hundred chairs on the front lawn -- quite a few more than the intimate group of family and friends that I imagined. My father got a bit carried away with inviting his friends and some relatives that I barely knew. I was not able to get a harpsichordist and harpsichord as I had hoped, since an outdoor wedding would be too much for the delicate instrument. But that was okay, since my friend with the voice and guitar came through beautifully.
An hour before the wedding, suddenly the beautiful blue skies opened up and rain began to pour. There were 11 tornadoes spotted that day, touching down in various near-by places in the county. It was too late to move the flowers, chairs and everything to the church, so the decision was made to hold the wedding in my father’s tool shed – a large aluminum pole barn that he recently built to house his large farm equipment. I was not accepting the rain at all and kept insisting, “It will blow over”! I wanted the chairs left outside. However, a consensus was reached -- without me -- and the tractors and farm equipment were moved out and the chairs & flowers were moved into the pole barn. My cousin was sent to the church to tell people to come out to the farm for the wedding. At the motel where David’s family was staying, the rain was so intense, that they could not get to their cars. Finally, they were able to get to their cars during a brief lull and drove to the church. There was one problem with this. When the Minichs’ finally arrived at the church, it was after 3:00 and my cousin was no longer posted there. This was a pre-cell phone era. They were very confused as to what to do -- they had no idea how to get to the farm from the church!!! They took off driving anyway and got lost in the torrential rain on the rural Illinois back roads.
Back at the farm, we were all ready to start the wedding, but none of David’s family was there. So we waited...and waited...and waited -- about 1 hour’s worth. I stood in my parents' kitchen and looked out the window at the tool shed and could see David and his friends opening beer and starting the reception. The phone rang. I answered. It was Janice; a former girlfriend of David’s who wanted directions to the wedding. One of David’s friends invited her. I introduced myself -- she hung up.
Finally David’s parents, brothers and relatives arrived -- very frazzled. David’s mother fit right into the farm scene -- she was madder than a wet hen. Someone got an umbrella for me and my father led me out into the rain into the pole barn and then up through the aisle of chairs to the front of the room.
Jim’s singing was perfect, but right in the middle of one of the songs; the door of the shed flew open and in marched Janice, David’s former girlfriend. (By the way, her nickname was Fred.) She found the wedding just fine all by herself. She sashayed across the room to her seat while all heads and eyes diverted in unison from Jim to watch Janice make her entrance.
The minister did give his homily about the tree and David and I did look into each other’s eyes and recited our vows. It was very romantic -- but no one heard anything since the rain picked up again and thundered down on the aluminum roof. Incidentally, 2 months later, when we returned to Illinois for my sister’s wedding, we went out to look at our tree -- it was dead!
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The strolling musicians that my German, farmer father hired, consisted of an accordion and a string bass. Imagine strolling and playing a string bass?! They played polkas. They also had a sense of humor. The musicians insisted that David and I dance the first dance together. They played “Please Release Me, Let Me Go”. Very appropriately (and also prophetically), David was no where to be found. So, with everyone watching, there I stood in the middle of the room --alone
At one point during the day, one of our "city" friends went outside to look at my father’s “cute” cows. Sandy opened the gate, looked at the cows and then walked away leaving the gate open. It was finally time for David and me to depart. After another search, he was found and we went out to the car. There were cows everywhere wandering among the cars. The lightening had knocked out an electric fence and there were other cattle roaming around on the road too. We all began to round up cows tromping around in the mud and rain in our wedding finery.
After a bit, Dad told David and me to be on our way and not to worry about the cows. We got into the car that David’s brother loaned us -- the one the other brother threw-up in the night before. We drove off into the sunset, gagging at the smell, and in stony silence. I refused to speak to David. I was sure I had made the biggest mistake of my life. I was wondering what to do about the wedding gifts, but mostly I was trying to figure out how to tell my parents -- I could not stand this man driving the car that I had gone to so much trouble to marry! When we pulled into the hotel in Chicago Heights and got checked into our room, not only was I angry, but I was very hungry and very, very tired. David, very wisely, determined that I needed rest and food, so again he left -- this time in search of food. By the time he drove around Chicago Heights -- many times -- and returned with a pizza, I had napped and was definitely in a much better mood. I always end this story saying a pizza saved our marriage and if you ever see David wandering around Americus carrying a pizza, you’ll know he’s making a peace offering. No doubt, we will likely celebrate our anniversary in high style befitting a Minich 40th anniversary – we’ll probably go to Pat’s Place and eat pizza together!
My father, the German farmer, did a couple things out of which, as the years have passed, we have continually gleaned wisdom. Of all the wedding gifts we got, my father’s to us was the most unusual. It was a large rock, with a card taped to it with a hand-written message that said, “May your marriage be as smooth and solid as this stone.” He found it out in his field as he was working. He decided it was a perfect gift for us, cleaned it up, put it into a box and wrapped it up. As I picked up the nicely wrapped box that weighed a lot, my imagination soared wondering what could possibly be inside. Again, this rock did not meet my expectations, yet it has been a true indicator of our marriage.
Although the rock is basically smooth, there are pits, discolorations, rough places and imperfections in it -- and, it did not meet our expectations of a proper wedding gift. There is nothing outstanding about it. It is just solid and true and made by God -- I think it is beautiful. I keep this rock in our foyer by the fireplace. It is the first thing anyone sees upon entering our house. For me, every time I walk in the front door of my home, it serves as a constant reminder of my expectations. We should try to keep our expectations as solid and true as possible and then be flexible to alter our expectations if they are not met.
Dad also gave us some advice the day after the wedding. We returned to the farm to get our gifts and my belongings to leave for our new home together in Buffalo, NY. Dad said, “Don’t leave God out of your lives.” At the time, it sounded hoakie, since we were not really strong in our faith – we were young and full of ourselves. Yet, the words stuck and we were reminded of them every time we looked at that rock. Sometime later we both came to truly know the Lord and decided to commit our lives in obedience to God where ever God should call us to serve. That rock now represents a mission statement, if you will, for David & me. That little lesson about expectations on my wedding day opened the floodgates for an amazing life that took us around the world and back and has surpassed anything that I ever dared to dream.
Many times my experiences and people I know have fallen short of my expectations for them. I have fallen short of my expectations for myself. An earthly life is full of disillusion and disappointment and pain. Things happen that are out of our control. A life lived with God in it is still out of our control, but it always surpasses expectations and frees us to dream and to have a lofty vision -- a God-centered life is as smooth and solid as that rock, in spite of the pits, discolorations and rough places.
Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock.
Matthew 7: 24-25
