A Closer Look At Our Not Very DIY Wedding

Here are some pictures from our very not DIY wedding. Enjoy!

Warrenwood Manor, Danville, KY, Venue

Gourmet Goodies , catering

Sweets By Cindy , cake and cupcakes

Molly's Flowers and Things, bouquets and boutonnieres

Morie Lee, dress designer

Henri's Cloud 9, Minerva OH, dress and belt 

Angela Karla Bridal,  custom veil and all alterations

Men's Wearhouse, groomsmen's outfits

Kristin Vermilya photography, photographer

Goff Tents & Events, chairs

Kara Smith and Betty Miller were our coordinators

Kelly Taylor did my hair and Taylor Morris did hair and makeup for bridesmaids

Meredith Glover MC'd our reception and Elle Smith was our DJ
Kaylee Morin was my bridal assistant 

Anna, Elijah, Kristen, Will, Anna C, Ian, Kara, Betty, Ed, Mom and Dad helped with set up

Libby Thorngate was our ceremony pianist and Mike Harper ran sound

Pastor Jeff was our officiant and marriage counselor

Ben Fitzwater and Elijah Gates were our ushers and Courtney Raymond was our greeter
Our niece was our flower girl and my second cousin was our ring bearer

Tons of friends and family helped clean up

Skip The DIY Wedding

My wedding day is very much a blur at only six months since. I was warned it would be and those people proved to be right. It wasn't perfect like they turn out to be in the movies, and it wasn't a disaster, like they turn out in the movies. It was ours. It was our day. And although I felt like I waded through mud (very thick mud, similar to quicksand) throughout the preparations I was glad I did a lot of it on my own and with  the help ( a lot of help) from family and friends.

There were pieces of our lives scattered throughout our wedding. The windows from my childhood home were painted and propped up as decoration. The table that held our communion bread and wine (just kidding, it was juice) was built by Will over the summer. The spray painted mason jars came from camp and the sweets on the tables were Will and I's favorites. Every decoration had thought because almost every decoration was made by yours truley. What we didn't save on time we saved on money.

A Do It Yourself wedding isn't for everyone. It's stressful, even if you enjoy crafts and projects. But a DIY wedding is laced with you and those around you. It felt like everything that made up our wedding was held together by those sitting in those cheap plastic chairs (sorry, tight budget). Alterations done by a lifelong friend and music played by an old roommate... I guess our wedding wasn't really a DIY. We didn't do it on our own. Screw DIY. DIY is the opposite of what a marriage represents and it's not what the church represents either.

Skip the DIY wedding and allow the tribe around you to lend a hand and hold you up. A wedding day really does go by in a blur, and who better to spend that blur with not just the one love of your life, but the many.

Courage, Dear One.

You know what’s scary? Change. Now. Sometimes I like and invite change because I'm one who bores easily. But those changes are ones I can control and are normally pretty small or something to divert my attention. Like most people in the universe I need time to transition. But life doesn’t always give you time to do that.

I had no time to transition when I felt the impact at the back of my car and crashed into the sign I was suddenly careening towards. Car accidents offer no transition other than the ride to the hospital.

Not every life changing event happened at 45 mph, some happened over the course of 11 months as I planned our wedding. As much as I wanted to get married I felt myself digging in my heels, hoping that time would slow down. In the end I walked away, not only a wife, but full of memories I’ll cherish forever. Like the barn doors sliding open as I stood, waiting for my groom, arm and arm with my dad. That one’s my favorite from the day. And it only took about a year to plan.

There was a lot of coming and going in 2015. Packing and moving and leaving and crying and goodbyes. Some goodbyes were short lived, and some will last a lifetime. But there were also hellos. New ones and old ones and salvaged ones. Some lasted for only a second and others were practiced weekly.

Dreams were had. Streets were walked. Skies were flown. Seasons came and went and a year went by. Big (and sometimes scary) things happened in 2015. But I know bigger (and sometimes scary) things are yet to come. Things scarier than wedding dates and job offers. And I guess they don’t have to be scary. Instead they can be grand and beautiful.

I knew a year ago that I had a choice. I could choose fear or simply think of 2015 as an adventure. I longed to stick to the adventure but fear crept in, as it does so often in life. But it’s when fear is overcome that character is deepened and courage is gained.

I’m not sure how much courage I gained over the past year. It may have been little and it may have been much but I do know one thing; this adventure isn’t over yet. In fact. It’s only just begun.

I'm so sorry, Mr. President.

"...our thoughts and prayers are not enough. It's not enough."- President Obama

I'm sorry. 

If I truly believe that Jesus is my all and everything and that he is who he says he is then I must disagree, Mr. President. Just because you have given up hope, doesn’t mean I have to. It doesn’t mean we have to. Terrible, terrible things happen every day to people. But I don’t have to give into hopelessness. My soul is with hope because I gained hope. I showed a crowd of witnesses when I came back up from the water that my life is with hope.

I’m sorry you’re so hopeless Mr. President. I’m so sorry that you’ve given up hope that a great God works ugly things for our good and his glory. I’m sorry. You were appointed to lead us. So lead us to hope.

Don’t let death win. Death loses. Death dies, Mr. President. Don’t worry. These trials and tribulations here on earth hurt and drain and are terrifying. Sometimes life just sucks and it feels like our hearts will ache for ages. But don’t let that win.

Be courageous. Be brave! Hope again. Hope in the Lord. We have nothing else. We can’t win these battles, both unseen and in our face, without Him. We’ll lose.

Lead this nation to hope again, Mr. President. I know it’s scary, but He’ll come through. Even in the darkest of times. Hope will shine through. 

Constipated Much?

I’m five days constipated. Too much information? You should read some of the articles I’ve been reading to help with my flow problem, now that’s too much information. Anyways, here I am, day five into constipation, learning what it really means to count my blessings.

It started at camp on Tuesday. (Well, it actually stopped on Sunday, but you get my drift.) On Tuesday I noticed that this wasn’t a normal catch in my schedule. My bowels run a pretty tight ship, so when something goes off course I notice. I tell some people at camp and they give me Miralax and one of the girls runs into town (which takes about 20 some minutes) to get me apple juice. Nothing. Now I’m in pain, waddling to the toilet at almost every cramp. I wake up every 2 hours that night to have a less that satisfying trip to the bathroom and decide in the morning to go into town to statcare.

As I’m driving into town I’m praying for healing. But then my heart hits a wall. I miss my friends. I miss my fiancé. I miss my mom. I feel alone. My prayers are no longer focused on how uncomfortable I am. I just want to know I’m not alone. I just want my Heavenly Father to whisper, “Molly. I’m here. I’m with you. And I’ll never leave you.”

That was Wednesday, this is Thursday and I’m still backed up. My camp director let me go home; home to my comfortable bed, loving parents and my own bathroom. As my mom cooked dinner the radio was playing and I heard them talking about the hardship in Syria. Then an ad came on about the lack of Bibles throughout Africa. And then I thought, “I am so grateful that I’m only constipated.” With a new perspective I prayed for the people in Syria and my mind was brought back to just how grateful I am for the people I have in my life.

I have a mom that takes care of me, a workplace that wants what’s best for me, and friends that pray for my butt. My life is blessed. My cup overflows with goodness from the Lord, allowing me to see how faithful he is. He’s not just faithful to me, but to the suffering in Syria as well. Circumstance doesn’t define his character because HE IS. He simply IS. And he cares for me and my troubles just as he cares for yours and those less fortunate. That’s who he is.

So take a moment, let your perspective change from one of constipation to gratefulness and praise. Give thanks for the people in your life and lift up praise because we have a God who simply IS.

Hopelessness, Fear and a Wedding Date.

What have I learned so far in planning my wedding?

Hopelessness sets in fast and fear is hand in hand.

Dresses. I went to three dress shops. The first one I liked two dresses a lot. The second one I liked one dress overall. The third shop I found nothing. Absolutely nothing. Diddly squat. That’s when it came. Fear. My thoughts went instantly to never finding a dress, settling on an ugly dress, regretting my decision and on and on it went.  Wait. Didn’t I already find one dress that trumped all other dresses and that I couldn’t get out of my mind when I tried others on? Yes I did. So I picked it.

Venues. I’ve emailed and looked and searched for a venue that can accommodate and best fit what Will and I have in mind. What have I found? Booked. They’re all booked. Oh gosh. We’re never going to find a place and if we do it’s going to be $50,739. Lord have mercy, let’s elope! Wait. Didn’t one place say to email back in a few days because cancellation happen? Aren’t there plenty more places I haven’t heard back from? Aren’t there places I haven’t contacted yet? Yes there are. So I’ll continue to look.

Details. Colors. Food. Music. Housing for out of town guests. Style. Decorations. How do I do this? Is this possible? Can I make this all happen? Where will the money come from? Who will help? Now my inner self is in the fetal position, crying and blubbering about flowers and tablecloths.

Then I look down at my ring. It’s beautiful. More than anything I had hoped for. And I think about who I’m marrying. He’s wonderful, much more than anyone I had dreamed of.

 It’s not about what I can do or what I can plan. Sure, there’s hard work involved but if the birds have food and a home won’t I, a daughter, have a wedding that works? Won’t I have a wedding that at the end of the day I’ll be able to look back and be amazed at how God pieced it together? If I allow him to do so, then yes.

So I’ll allow God to be my planner, provider, and all around hope for my wedding, my future, and for my life. It’s not hopeless. It’s never hopeless. And fear? Well, that’ll be something I have to kick to the curb because there’s a wedding to plan and I won’t let anything stand in my way.

Betsie ten Boom

“And I saw it all, still I chose the cross” – Out of Hiding, song by Steffany Gretzinger

Yes, yes, it’s a great song, but I don’t want it stuck in my head at the moment; I just want to read.

I had been reading The Hiding Place by Corrie ten Boom and I couldn't put it down. (If you plan on reading this book there are some spoilers on the way, just a heads up!)

“And I saw it all, still I chose the cross”

There it was again, a line from a song that I listened to the previous night. It kept playing in my head over and over again as I read about Corrie’s life in the concentration camp during World War II. At this point in the book I was in awe of Betsie, Corrie’s sister who went to the camps with her. The way she lived and loved and extended grace was so much like Jesus it floored me. How could someone live that way with such unthinkable hatred and cruelty around her?

Then she died.

No. Betsie couldn’t die. She had to survive! She had to make it out alive! There was so much God was speaking to her. They killed her. They did.

          “And I saw it all, still I chose the cross”

No. Corrie had to just stand watch as her sister, her kind, gentle sister died. She didn't deserve it! They killed Betsie, they left Corrie alone! They did, they did, they…

I died for Hitler.

The still small voice that whispered to Betsie in the concentration camp whispered to me in my living room.

“And I saw it all, still I chose the cross”

That’s when the tears really started rolling. I listen to all these sweet songs about how Jesus loves me and died for me and I decided at some point along the way that Jesus didn't die for the really bad people. (Yeah... It doesn’t make sense, I know.) What Hitler did was evil; he allowed evil to triumph over millions. But Jesus still died for him, he told me so. He loved him and hoped for him and longed for him to come close. Just like he does for you, just like he does for me. Just like he did for Betsie ten Boom.

What used to be lined with barracks for prisons  is now a vacant piece of land of the Ravensbruck concentration camp, the camp that Bestie Ten Boom died at. I had the opportunity to walk the paths of Ravensbruck and go through the memorials; it's a day I'll never forget.

Like the lyrics? Click here to check out Staffany Gretzinger's album, The Undoing.