CHRIS
My heart beat in my ears as I nervously adjusted my tie and waited. One bridesmaid after another slowly made their way down the aisle one step at a time, escorted by my groomsmen. I smiled at each, but I wished they’d all move a little faster. I’d waited for this day my entire life, and there was only one person I wanted to see. Finally, the last bridesmaid took her place. The string quartet’s music swelled, which sent a buzz through the crowd that had gathered to share this day with Emily and me. I glanced up at the overcast sky, thankful for the clouds that kept the Florida heat from becoming overwhelming. We couldn’t have asked for a more perfect day for our wedding.
The music built. Little girls swiveled in their seats, craning their necks for a first glimpse of the much-anticipated white dress. In a few minutes, Emily and I would become husband and wife. We’d say our vows and then walk together down that aisle. It was only seven yards, but that distance represented something special to us: the first steps in our journey together.
Sitting in my wheelchair, I didn’t take those seven yards for granted. Just seven and a half years ago, lying in a hospital bed, I doubted I would ever take another step. My dreams crumbled as my life as I knew it was over. More than once I cried out to God, Why is this happening to me? This has to be a mistake. I looked ahead and could not see a future I wanted to live. Every goal I had ever set for myself—every dream, every plan—ended in a split second. Even worse, I feared I’d have to spend that empty future alone.
But God knew better.
I could not have imagined the life he had in store for me. I never expected to be given a public platform—not to shine a spotlight on myself, but to point people toward God and to give them inspiration and hope. And I hadn’t allowed myself even to hope that a woman like Emily could look at me with pure love and devotion in her eyes—that she could see me, and not my wheelchair. Emily not only encouraged me to keep training and keep working when I felt like giving up but also opened my eyes to the needs of others and showed me how fulfilling it could be to sacrifice my comfort to help them.
It had been seven years, and they all led up to the seven-yard aisle at our wedding.
Our flower girls came walking up the aisle now, scattering petals from their baskets as the ring bearers walked solemnly beside them. Emily was next. A lump formed in my throat as I strained my eyes, looking for the first sign of her.
Emily and I hadn’t just overcome my physical condition together. Just one year ago, I wasn’t sure if there would ever be a wedding. A deep depression had wrapped Emily in its clutches, choking the light and passion that defined her and sparking constant fighting between us. More than once Emily had told me that we were through, but she could never give up on me, and I could never give up on her.
Thankfully, God never gave up on either of us. Our wedding today was proof that he could overcome any obstacle we faced and lead us into a life that exceeded anything we had ever imagined—not only for us but also for the fifteen foster children he has brought in and out of our home. Our wedding walk was our way of telling the world that with God, all things truly are possible. We should know. We’ve lived it.