Today, I’m a guest writer at my friend Alison’s blog, concluding her months-long series Nothing So Broken. When she asked me back at the end of summer to participate, I wanted to say “yes,” even knowing that saying “yes” meant telling the story I never thought I’d tell.
It’s a love story, and like all good love stories, there’s plenty of conflict. But there’s also hope and grace and forgiveness.
It begins where most fairy tales end: with a wedding.
We stood at the altar, him and me, making promises, pledging our troth, nodding in agreement as our pastor and friend counseled us to lean not on our own understanding.
I was 29. It had been a decade of watching most of my friends get married and begin to have babies, wondering when it would be my turn. Ten
years earlier I had given my life to Christ, and I had expected him to find me a prince worthy of a happily ever after. I had waited what felt like a very
long time, but when I met Phil, I knew from the start something was happening.
Read the rest of the post here.
