Good Friday

This weekend we jumped through a lot of hoops to get to a wedding.  We packed the car up, headed down to Durham, NC, dumped a couple of our kids off at my brother-in-law and wife's house (thank you J and K!!) and whisked our one very precious special needs daughter off to a wedding in Wilmington.

I'll be honest.  It's hard to watch a wedding with a special needs child.  
She wiggles, crawls away, spits, eats the dirt, eats the table cloth, eats the centerpieces, cries, climbs up strangers' legs, thrashes backwards, flails wildly, stims constantly, shrieks, poops her pants often and bites randomly.  And she's getting stronger by the second (praise God?).   

And then there are those rare moments where she is completely 
precious and happy. The easy part.

This wedding though, was unlike one I've ever been to before.  Not because of the light mist, the most perfect venue, or the stunning bride in fairy-tale white, not because of the loyal Navy community present, or the gorgeous big white tent, or the delectable food,  but because of the mere fact that I had NEVER in my life seen so many wheelchairs at a wedding.

Yes, I said wheelchairs. Look:

You see, the focus was clear for this couple.
And someone might as well have been screaming it from the rooftops:

ALL PEOPLE ARE VALUED AND HAVE SOMETHING TO OFFER,
DESIGNED BY GOD, AND WELCOME HERE!!!
(AND BY THE WAY, WE MIGHT, JUST MIGHT HAVE SOMETHING TO LEARN FROM THEM).


Come by horse, by car, by plane, by spaceship, by buggy, by stroller, by crutch,
by wheelchair.
WE LOVE YOU!
Scream, holler, hoot, cry, wail, fart, drool.
STILL COME!

So we came.  Along with several other families who may have been shunned or shushed or shut out at other important ceremonies.

During the ceremony.

Doing a very good job not ripping the tablecloth off.

And that night, as I watched this bride dance with my daughter for a solid 15 minutes, my eyes welled and spilled because at that very moment, I realized she loved Iva June for who she was.  I was not bribing, begging, bartering or making apologies for her.  I was not paying her to care for her.   She was not a relative or even a long-time friend.

She was doing this because she actually wanted to.  She seemed overjoyed to be holding her, swaying with her and letting her know that she was, indeed, important amongst 300 wedding guests.

And not only did she dance with my daughter, but she took several others out of their wheelchairs and danced with them as well.

What bride has an hour to do that?

This one.

June dancing with her new "attendant"

And that is how you raise a daughter.  Thank you, to this woman's parents.  I know your own journey and heartache has made your family also very unique.  Well, I want you to know, it has come full-circle.  And this may be just a very small part of the WHY in all those years of hard moments and shed tears. Thank you.  Thank you. Thank you.