The dear friend of my heart, close to me since we were in Brownies together at six years old, has just remarried. That in itself is not remarkable--many people lose a spouse to divorce or death, and find love again and start again, but her situation hit me hard since we were so close. Her first husband left saying he needed to find himself--and of course, what he was finding was his way to another woman's bed, the usual case with that particularly lame excuse.
I heard her grief and wept my own tears for her loss. She wondered if she could ever trust a man again, ever start her life with someone else again, especially after looking and not finding anyone that matched well with her. She used the right methods, mind you, even the computer match ups that were supposed to be so darned fail proof that you'd find lots of compatible guys. Uh-uh.
Then God basically just dropped a deeply good man in her lap, I think partly just because she had worked and prayed so hard for him, and God honored that.
I was blessed to be, for the second time, her matron of honor last weekend, and I took this photo of their hands: it says it all. They are not the smooth young hands of a fresh young couple who are starry-eyed and unaware of all the road hazards ahead; these are the hands of two people who have worked hard, loved hard, and lived well for many years, and now are taking the big leap of faith once again with each other.
How very, very wonderful such things are!
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Beautiful! Both the photo and the story.
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