I first met Kathryn when she was in elementary school. She became a constant fixture in our Texas congregation, appearing whenever the door was open. Over several years, we became good friends. After her high school graduation, Kathryn went to college on the east coast and her parents moved to Orlando, Florida. But, we still kept in touch.

When Kathryn fell in love with James, she was eager for us to meet. James was and is a wonderful young man, a great match for Kathryn’s kind heart and fervent faith. Kathryn invited me to officiate for her wedding. I was honored with the request. The ceremony would not be in Texas because her family no longer lived in the Lone Star State, and Kathryn had few relationships in Florida; therefore, we would celebrate her marriage in James’ hometown, Annapolis, Maryland.

Kathryn has always been and today remains a hyper-organized person. Long before the wedding, our transportation was arranged. Long before the wedding, she chose a scripture reading and made a unique request that I preach a short sermon during the ceremony. Again, I was honored.

Months passed quickly. While Kathryn’s life had one major focus: her wedding, my life filled up with many other things. Both of us were truly blessed and busy. Kathryn called me on the Monday evening prior to her wedding. I was at a baseball game, sitting behind home plate watching my son as the catcher. I answered my cell, trying to hear Kathryn above the crowd. I attempted to focus on her voice; however, I was preoccupied with my son’s stance as he crouched behind home plate. Was he aware of the other runners? Was he prepared for a throw to second? Was he going to keep the next wild pitch from getting away?

Kathryn sensed my distraction. She called wanting confirmation of my wedding preparation. She wanted a taste of my sermon as she anticipated the biggest weekend of her life. To say the least, I did not meet her expectations. I even had the nerve to question whether or not I still had the chosen scripture in hand. When we ended the conversation I quickly absorbed myself back into the game.

The next morning, I received a call from Kathryn’s mom in Orlando. As gently as she could, her mother let me know of her daughter’s disappointment in me. Humility was not my first response. Kathryn was questioning the priority her wedding had in my life. I felt harshly judged that a conversation during a ballgame was being used to interpret my priorities.

However, my confidence did not wane. I thought to myself, “It’s me! I’ll bring it! I’ll think of something so cool that no one will doubt the priority I placed on this sacred event.” I set a blank pad of paper on my desk and wrote “Kathryn’s Wedding” at the top. Every day I stared at the blank pad. I prayed for inspiration, but everything that entered my mind reeked of cliché. Everything seemed trite and overdone and I needed something profound to prove my diligent preparation. I wondered, “Are there no new dynamic things to say about love and the covenant of marriage?”

Each day of the week passed into the next without inspiration. I wasn’t worried. There was plenty of time to organize my thoughts. When Friday rolled around, I announced to my wife, Lynda, that I would not be able to talk during the flight from Texas to Maryland: I had a sermon to write. I had something to prove. I prayed.

The empty pad sat before me on the seat back tray. Nothing. Out of desperation I asked the passengers around me for marriage advice. Seemingly, they weren’t offended that I asked! I explained my situation and they offered useless humor: “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” “Take care of his stomach and he’ll stay at home.” It was fun, but super non-productive.

By the time the plane landed I was nurturing paranoia. I greeted Kathryn’s father and wondered if his eyes were questioning the value of bringing me to Annapolis. I greeted James and his family at the rehearsal dinner and internally wondered if they had discussed my unfortunate Monday evening phone conversation with the bride. I no longer needed Kathryn to question me. I was doing plenty of that on my own.

But, I wasn’t afraid. I still had all night, and the next morning, to pull stuff together. God would provide.

The rehearsal dinner was high class. We enjoyed fine dining at the Yacht Club on the Bay. I ate things out of the ocean I had never seen before. But something in a shell and I did not get along. I returned to the hotel as sick as a dog, up all night, hot then cold and becoming increasingly frustrated and angry.

The next morning I skipped breakfast and lunch in the hotel lobby with Kathryn’s family. My insecurity imagined their judgment with my absence. Lynda, not wanting to go alone, found something to eat in the hallway vending machine. The afternoon rolled around and I showered and cleaned-up but remained exhausted. Inspiration still eluded me and I felt abandoned by God. We went to the wedding. Everyone was so blasted happy. Grinning was everywhere and it merely reminded me of what I was not prepared to do. I looked to my wife, apologized and abandoned her for privacy anywhere I could find it.