Not much time for long blog posts today. I had one morning service (Holy Communion), but nothing to take tonight. I was pleased. Today is our wedding anniversary, so we have had the chance for a quiet night in together after putting the children to bed (well, OK, not right at this minute, Debbie is having her weekly hour of devotion to ‘Lost’).
Before the children went up to the bath, we got out the wedding photos and showed them to the kids. Rebekah was surprised to see various children she knows looking much smaller. Mark kept saying, ‘There’s my Dad!’ and ‘There’s my Mum!’
Yes, seven years ago, Debbie was crazy enough to take me on. She has strengths that fill in for my weaknesses. I knew that if we had children, she would be the most amazing mother, and she is. Her instincts and intuition guide me in ministry to things I would never see. She’ll read this and cover her embarrassment with a sarcastic remark, but I hope that somewhere she might just be a little pleased that I tell people how much I love her, think of her and value her.
And so, on 1st June 2001, in Rainham Methodist Church, Kent, our dear friend David Ashby married us. A traditional service with hymns like ‘Be thou my vision’ and ‘And can it be’, plus a wedding sermon about the two travellers on the Emmaus Road from Chris Collins, was bookended by our own distinct choices of entry and exit music. Debbie, the former biker, entered the church on her Dad’s arm to the strains of ‘Born to be wild’. I had the choice of of exit music. We tried out two different them tunes on CD at the rehearsal, to see which had the better rhythm for walking out. ‘The Simpsons’ lost out to ‘Thunderbirds’.
Seven years. I’m not itching. I hope I never will.