The Life and Times of a Groom

My wife is currently taking a well-deserved repose in the other room. It seems much has happened in the last 2 weeks.


On the night of August 10th, I slept about 5 hours, which is much more than I thought I would get the night before getting married. I awoke quite calmly and went and lay out on the living room couch, thinking, "This is the day." I proceeded to take a long bubble bath, followed by the world's most precise and cautious shave. I expected a regular breakfast, but lo and behold, my dad had decided to get Subway sandwiches. After a repast, I gathered up all the elements of my white groom outfit and put them on one by one. The long dress shirt, the tie, the vest, the pants, the socks, the shoes, the coat. And then it was off to Covington, Louisiana to Vintage Court, the site of Amanda and I's marriage and wedding reception. As my dad drove, I prayed and sang praises to God on this glorious morning.


I arrived at PJ's Coffee, right down the road, and few of the groomsmen and I waited for the "green light" to proceed to Vintage Court. Apparently, the bride was taking pictures, and most of us hopefully know that it is a big faux pas for the groom to see the bride in her wedding gown before the processional. As I nervously paced around I took two phone calls, one from a groomsmen who was running late, another from a violinist who had to cancel because of unfortunate sickness. I took a deep breath and realized that if all else failed today, if Amanda, my father and me were there, everything would be fine. Today was the day I would declare to the world my intentions to husband for all time this woman who is the love of my life.


Eventually we were phoned in to come. I energetically shook a few hands before taking my place up at the front and to the side. Soon the processional music started. Amanda and I's grandparents, followed by our mothers proceeded down the aisle, with our mothers both lighting a taper unity candle. This was my father and I's cue to walk to the front and center of the beautiful altar.


Let me set the scene. When you drive down the roadway to Vintage Court, it is a typical southern Louisiana scene. Oak tree groves and beautiful flower beds greet you. When you walk in the front door, there is a small reception area, which opens up into the main hall, a long aisle with windows on each side, leading to the main seating area and altar at the opposite end. The sanctuary forms a cross, actually. Over the center of the cross is a beautiful chandelier with white ribbons. At the altar there are two brightly burning candleabras, marble steps leading up, and there my father and I stand.


Here come the bridesmaids and there escorting groomsmen. The best man, Matthew Clayton, and the maid of honor, Valerie Mautz, are first. Then come Jacob Benda and Betsy Sihvonen, David Mautz and Laura Post, and Zechariah Brewer and Hannah Clayton. Next an adorable site, my brother and sister, John and Jessica, the ring bearer and flower girl. John is bearing both the rings on a pillow and Jessica, with a curious smirk on her face, is gently sprinkling flower petals.


I looked at my father, the minister, and turned with a lump in my throat as the music once again changed. At the far end stood Amanda and her father. I could already feel my pulse quickening as I could tell from this great distance that once she got up to the altar, I would be gazing upon the most beautiful sight I had ever seen. As she reached the altar I walked down the steps to greet her and both our faces lit up in gorgeous, goofy grins. "Who gives this woman to be married to this man?" the minister bellowed out. "Her mother and I do," my father-in-law calmly said. Removing her veil, he shook my hand and placed his daughter's hand in mine. I led her up to the altar, where we turned 45 degrees from each other and we both smiled until we turned red.


From thence there was a welcome, a presentation, an opening prayer, a message about the unity of marriage and the body of believers, the exchange of vows, the giving and receiving of rings, the lighting of the unity candle, our parents praying for us at the altar, an altar call, a wedding song by John Roger and Deanna Bell, the Lord's Supper, pronouncement, and the recessional. Amanda and I were very proud of the ceremony, because we wrote the entire script ourselves 3 months before its realization. The minister gave a powerful word of exhortation and encouragement to us, that our marriage was a symbolic represenation of the marriage between Christ and His church. The altar call was a call to salvation through Christ, and the Lord's Supper was offered to all believers, who wished to partake. For this is something important to Amanda and I: the unity of God's people.


The entire time we were up there, Amanda and I kept glancing from the minister back and forth to each other, with large smiles on our faces. It is the giddiest feeling I can ever remember having in my life. My eyes devoured every inch of Amanda in her dress, as her eyes continually greeted mine with shouts of adoration. I was also glad to have a handkerchief for my forehead because the air conditioning sporadically went out. When the ring bearer brought the rings to me, I was so nervous, I tried handing Amanda her ring to put on me. This led to a moment of laughter at the altar (there were many others, as well).


The kiss at the altar was the slowest and most relaxed we have ever had. After we walked down the aisle as husband and wife, the blur known as a wedding reception began. We had to quickly sign the marriage license copies, as well as take dozens of photographs inside and outside. By the time we actually joined the reception, I was already tired. But that quickly turned into a rush of emotion. Hug after hug, congratulations after congratulations. People that I see every day at college began to become unrecognizable as I greeted more people than I ever have before in my life. Amanda and I had our first dance to David Crowder Band's "Stars," and then I danced with my mother as she danced with her father. We cut the cake, drank from our sparkling grape juice glasses, fed each other cake, had the bouquet and garter toss, talked ate a tiny bit whenever we had time, took pictures, talked some more, danced (mainly Amanda), and before we knew it, Amanda was telling me, "your brother's got the getaway car in place, we have to go soon!" And I honestly could not believe that nearly four hours at Vintage Court had passed.
We walked down the outside steps amidst cheers and many wedding bubbles and I helped her into the car, as I drove away, honking. I remember thinking, "That happened way too fast."

But we were headed for our first evening of marriage to the Ritz Carlton in New Orleans, a five-star hotel. And the only people who knew this were our parents. And then we dropped off the face of the map for a week, and entered a paradise of love.











Note: These pictures, courtesy of Laura Post. These are just a few photos to give readers a general idea of the look of the occasion. Professional photographs will follow when available.