So it's my turn to sit outside Max's room while he decides that it is better for him to stay in his bed than to get out meet Mr. Consequence. It is about 90 degrees here in the hallway (no exaggeration, the AC isn't working in the back end of the house). My mind is swirling with all the things left to do in preparation for Jordan's big day; His wedding, less than two weeks away.

In the recent weeks, we have struggled trying to figure out how we can make this event all that it should be. In a sense, tradition has been thrown out the window. The current economic conditions have reeked havoc on not only our family but the bride's family as well. So we are all in this together and are making due with what we have. Much has been donated but much has yet to be paid for. And some things we will go without.

I have had sleepless nights caused by the feelings of stress and guilt for our lack of the ability to provide all the details that would make this the most amazing day of Jordan and Desiree's lives. The guilt that comes with not being able to help them pay for a honeymoon that would start their marriage off on the right foot. The guilt that they have had to sacrifice (without complaint) some of their dreams of what this day would look like because we can't afford to help them.

Up until this last weekend, I had felt buried. I had felt like a child whose blanket tent collapsed and now is flailing trying to find the way out. The child can hear her daddy calling and knows he is near, but she can't quite get out from under the layers she had so skillfully crafted so she could see him.

I was that child. I was buried under “details”. Details like: “is it ok not to give everyone a spoon? We're not serving anything that should be eaten with a spoon so would people be offended by not getting a spoon?” or “is it ok to toast with pink lemonade or must we get sparkling cider for everyone? (its silly I know, just bear with me) These were the things that had buried me to the point that I could not see God.

I knew God was there, I could hear His voice, but I just couldn't see Him...Until this weekend.

My younger sister thought it would be a good idea to have a weekend at my parents' mountain house with Desiree and her mom and sister. It was going to be a weekend that would include myself, my three older daughters, my two sisters and their daughters and my mom. It was going to be a time to build relationships before the wedding so that when that day came we would not all be strangers. Let's call it a “Welcome to the Family” weekend.

The wedding details had consumed last week and before I knew it, it was Thursday and Dan and I were trying to figure out how I was going to get myself and my girls up to the cabin. You see, our van is a gas guzzler, our more economical Mazda wasn't running, and our Honda's tires were too bald to drive. Dan handed me some money and said “This is all we have. Its enough to fill the tank in the van or get tires on the Honda and enough gas to get you there. Go get tires on the Honda”. I went to the tire store and told the guy how much I could spend and that I needed two tires...nothing more, nothing less. After looking at the tires on the Honda and telling me how bad they were, he proceeded to try to sell me the whole skinkin' store. Maybe he didn't hear me. I reiterated the amount of money and my need for only two tires. After refusing his attempts at in-store financing, I was finally able to make him understand my plight. His final offer was more than I had in my hand. I stood at the counter with a decision to make : panic or trust God. At that moment I chose to trust God. I walked out without the tires and prayed all the way home that God would show me His will. Within a few hours, we had all piled into Desiree's mom's suburban and we were on our way together.

The three hour ride was the first of many blessings this weekend. It was a great time to talk and share family stories and laugh. And it was just a taste of what we could expect for the rest of the weekend. We did lots of girl things; watched 27 Dresses, ate food, talked about boys, ate food, and went to sleep in the wee hours of the morning. Saturday, we showered Desiree with gifts. She is now a prepared bride with something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.... She is prepared to strain veggies, make spaghetti and slice avocados. (by the way...I want one of those avocado slicers!!) We swam, ate, played games, and ate some more.

Still, I had this feeling that I was buried. I could hear God, I knew He is there. I could feel Him in the laughter, but I just couldn't see Him.

After dinner on Saturday night, my sister suggested that we pray for Desiree and Jordan and for their future together. So all eleven of us gathered around Desiree and we began to pray. I closed my eyes. My sister prayed, then silence. My other sister prayed and then was joined by Desiree's mom. More silence. I prayed and expected that we would be done. The next silence was broken by my oldest daughter Madison, then my niece Catherine and finally Desiree through tears offered a prayer of thanksgiving. While she was praying, I opened my eyes. I looked at Madison and saw tears rolling down her cheeks. I was my sisters and nieces with their hands on Desiree's shoulders and I saw Desiree holding her mother's hand. At that very moment...I saw God. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

All of the “details” faded away and I saw what was important. Who cares if our guests get spoons and who cares if we toast with pink lemonade. I found my way out from under the blankets!! I can see God!! I know what is important!! God is bringing two souls together forever for His Glory!!! Thank you, God, for showing me your face. It is beautiful...