Love & Marriage, Rapunzel's tower, Castles & Accountability

It has been the busiest and most joyful several months. Marriage is a gift given such significant purpose by our God.  As a small child, I put a blanket atop my curly head, imagined I had long, straight hair like Rapunzel, and that my prince would come rescue me from some castle tower and we would live happily ever after.  Lo and behold, hair is still curly (but I straighten it with such conviction that my cousin recently pulled on my curls to decipher if they were a wig), my prince came, more dashing in looks and noble in character than I ever could have dreamed, and we were married in the most beautiful wedding on a warm, overcast, September day on which I truly felt like his princess.  I love being his Mrs. He gives light to my aspirations, strengthens the fibers of my faith as it applies to all aspects of life, challenges my doubts and worries, and improves himself daily. Jeremiah 29:11 plays no games.

What I have found interesting however, is that sometimes the castle dungeons and towers don't show up until later. They are shaped by the "Mean Girls" of life (even the ones that don't even go here), worries about the future, and anxiety over the criticisms said by people who wish to deflect the censors from themselves.  Though my husband has rescued me on multiple instances from these internal entrapments with his logical and patient discussion, I have learned myself that, though the tower exists, there is no need to go lock yourself in it. 

There is some sweet rebellion in acknowledging the tower, grimacing in disgust, and moving yourself right along without a second glance to use the gifts you've been given to build your own gosh darn castle. 

My castle sits on the Rock.  Jesus, unwavering despite my failures.  All the tools we need to build have been laid in front of us.  But, rather than wood and power tools, some of the apparatus I've been handed consists of icing sugar, mounds of flour, electric mixers, and pools of caramel. I shape them into celebration.   Celebration of my prince, my family, the genuine people who refuse to submit their character to fear. Confections of Rebellion. Rebellious Confections. Cake Wars: Rogue One. Just might have to change my title here!

For my own wedding, I chose to shatter everyone's expectations of a grand, towering, 8-layer confection and opted for a simple, ruffled, single tier (with the coolest cake topper ever!) from a local favorite bakery!  It was the best!! and the perfect compliment to our donut wall...DUCK DONUTS FOR THE WIN!! (Jonathan is still salty that he didn't get to take home any donuts on our day...fortunately they're only 15 minutes away).  

My brother, however, bestowed his great trust upon me for his own wedding cake. Had it been a wedding cake for anyone else, I would have stressed, I always stress, but for this cake, stress was not quite the word.  I had every emotional attachment, care, and concern for this cake. Extra dowel rods, perfect layer cake recipe, whipped mascarpone with cinnamon, soaked in coffee, icing spun on the lowest speed for near an hour, every item in my fridge displaced for a week to allow it the appropriate environment, the works. Stacked, aligned, filled, iced, arranged! And then the drive...

90 minutes of winding roads into one of the most beautiful parts of our state.  Curves, railroad tracks, lots of turns, the whole nightmare. I held on to that cake like my life depended on it.  Thank heavens, it arrived safely. We had to all by pry my hands off the board from gripping so hard, but we made it! And that's life isn't it? Sometimes it's cake, sometimes, you are gripping the cake like a gorilla for dear life, but eventually, Dad parks, cake gets put on a stand, and sometimes you get to dress your cake with flowers and eat it, too! Or, in my case, watch your so-in-love brother and his beautiful new wife eat it! Worth every second. 

I woke up the morning of my brother's wedding near as excited as I was on my own.  Arrived way too early at the venue for bridesmaid beautification.  I peered out the manor's glass parlor window. The outdoor ceremony space iced in the crystal breath of a late October sunrise, the stream bubbling and rushing early against the calm of a morning not quite yet awake.  Leaves touched gently with auburn and crimson, submitting slowly to autumn's embrace.  My sister-in-law arrived impressively relaxed, we each took hold of our Starbucks, and the beauty team spun this group of health professionals, saleswomen, sisters, cousins, and the like into romantic curls, long lashes, and grace. I set off to arrange the cake, excitedly shout my brother's name like a 2-year-old to get his attention while he was having photos done (oops!), and sooner than later we were waiting impatiently to trek down to the ceremony site and lead the bride in.  It is so incredible to witness how much love God can squeeze into people.  My brother loves his wife, his wife loves him, everyone there loves them both, and at the end of all of it I was privileged to take the arm of my dapper, incredible husband, my favorite person in the world ever, (who, to none of our surprise had become the ring bearer's favorite in a matter of 25 minutes) back up the aisle for a second time and into their beautiful celebration. 

There is an inexplicable peace in love.  In my own relationship, love is the higher calling. God is love--(Rev. Run..I said it). Despite every tower built around you, every potential misstep, frustration of the day, 90 minute cake drives, etc, you come home to this amazing person, and you are called to love. Give, serve, listen, repair. My husband is one of the easiest people to love. He is patient, slow to anger, careful in which direction he projects the day's frustrations, and eager to love me, in all of my forms, every day. People take advantage of his gentle heart, we share this burden, lift each other, and dust off the day's debris.  I am the nurturer, cooking, creating, planning. He is the organizer, picking up the schrapnel of my kitchen adventures, fine-tuning my ideas, keeping us comfortable and safe, sealing my days with affection, the voice of reason and faith when I spill out the anxieties of the day. He is my "reset".  We are accountable to and for each other to stay on the path of faith, to love more, even in exhaustion, and to face a cold world with the warmth of a Christian heart.  

AMAZING PHOTOGRAPHY: JANAE ROSE PHOTOGRAPHY

DESSERT MINIS (LEFT OF CAKE): THE KITCHEN TABLE
RIDICULOUS DONUT WALL: DUCK DONUTS