THE JEWEL OF THE CARIBBEAN

I'm realizing I should have written about our honeymoon right after we got back, when the excitement was fresh and the memories were consuming my mind for a good week after we had returned to Orlando. We've been back in the "daily grind" for a month now, and sometimes it's even hard to believe that we spent a week on that island at all. I can't seem to put myself back in that beautiful green place, when I'm sitting here at my computer by myself writing emails and doing interviews. Even the pictures sometimes don't seem real.

We spent our honeymoon on the island of St. John in the U.S. Virgin Islands. A little more info about the island from Wikipedia: "St. John is the smallest of the three main United States Virgin Islands (USVI), a United States territory. St. John is located in the Caribbean Sea about 4 miles east of Saint Thomas and 4 miles south and west of Tortola, part of the British Virgin Islands. It is roughly 20 square miles in area and has a population of 4,157. There is no airport on St. John, so access to St. John is by boat."

Philip and I had agreed that we wanted a destination that offered both beaches and mountains/hiking trails. St. John was really ideal for us. Two-thirds of the island is national parkland, so it's really unspoiled and natural. I can't even tell you how quaint, tropical, and beautiful the island is. There are no stoplights, no chain stores, no Friday's or Chili's. There's just narrow, winding, steep, two-lane roads and pure local goodness when it comes to stores and restaurants. Everyone knows everyone, and the mood is incredibly laid-back.

After a really long day of travel and waiting in the San Juan airport, we finally found ourselves on the ferry over to St. John. When we arrived at the dock, our hostess was waiting for us. Sandy West, along with her man Bear, are the owners of the T'ree Palms guest house, and they are the sweetest, toughest people we've ever met. Cropped gray hair, a tanned, muscular body, tattoos, and the warmest smile and hug greeted us in the St. John darkness. Sandy had picked up our rental Jeep, and we followed her up the crazy roads to our home for the week. The higher we climbed into the hills on the dirt roads, the more intimidated I became. It was beginning to look like this honeymoon was going to be a lot more hardcore than I had anticipated.

But when we arrived at our villa, it was clear that we were going to stay in pure paradise. We had our own pool and hottub, a deck overlooking Fish Bay, a hammock, and a cozy two-bedroom apartment all to ourselves. Standing on the deck looking out over a billion stars, I was speechless. Philip and I were beat, but Sandy had bought us some sandwich fixings and encouraged us to eat and take a dip in the hottub. "You don't have to get up early tomorrow," she reminded us. So we took her advice.

The rest of the week was truly and adventure. We tooled around the island in our rugged Jeep Wrangler (Philip always drove - four-wheel drive was frequently in use) and explored the beaches and trails and local nightlife. Sandy owns a snorkel boat called the Sadie Sea, and part of our rental deal included a day-trip. Her son Ben was our captain, and we spent five hours with him and only three other people touring the north side of the island and snorkeling in three different spots. Ben was full of tall tales of pirates and rich celebrities. We also snuck onto the Reef Bay hike - a three-mile trail that begins in the center of the island and ends at the beach. The national park guided hike was full, but Sandy encouraged us to show up anyway, and sure enough, we were able to sneak on the taxi. We learned about plant and animal life on the island and the history of its inhabitants. We even saw ruins of a sugar mill plantation and the sugar mill itself.

We spent time on three different beaches and did some more snorkeling closer to the shore. We staked out a private spot on the beach at Cinnamon Bay and later learned the rocks that shielded us from the rest of the beach-goers are called "Lovers' Leap." We hiked a hidden trail down to the beach at Reef Bay and saw only three other people on the beach. There, we hiked around a bed of rocks to discover what beach lay around the curve. It was a little spooky, since we didn't know what we would find and we were so secluded from any other human life. When we got to the bay on the other side, I insisted that we snorkel. After a few minutes in the shallow water, I spotted a rather long, narrow fish. I was excited to see such a big one, and I began to follow it. Before I knew what was happening, Philip was grabbing me and dragging me into the shore. I popped my head up out of the water - "What?! What is it?" He then informed me that it was a baracuda, and an even bigger one was following right behind the one I saw. He didn't want us taking our chances of getting hurt when we were so far from help. So thus ended our Reef Bay snorkel outing.

Checking out the local restaurants was a trip. On Bear's recommendation, we visited the Lime Inn on all-you-can-eat-shrimp night and Morgan's Mango on half-price margarita night. Our host at Lime Inn, whom we later learned was the owner, only had one arm, and the other was a hook. Seriously. I had ordered the snapper, and it came out as the whole fish - head, tail, and all. Our host saw that I was struggling to figure out how to get the meat off the bones, so he came over and with his one arm, cut my fish for me.

One night, we decided to go out dancing and brought only a credit card with for beverages. On our way to "downtown" Cruz Bay, we passed a dive bar that was featuring a live band. The Backyard, as it was called, had been dead every other night that we had passed it, but on this night, we decided to stop in, since it seemed to be where the party was. When we got up to the bar, we discovered that it was cash-only - bad news, since it was a good 20-minute drive back up to our villa to get our money. But then the bartender said, "But everything's free tonight. The owner just got married, and he's throwing a party. It's completely open-bar." I couldn't believe it. Everything in the bar was totally free. So Philip and I took advantage of the deal and danced to the band with the rest of the island. So much fun.

On our last day, we had a massage therapist come out to our villa. She set up her table on our deck, and there is nothing like getting a massage in the breeze to the sound of birds chirping! Then we took a driving tour of the east side of the island, where we got to see the Annaberg sugar mill ruins, Coral Bay, and the very secluded beach at Lameshur Bay, only accessible by Jeep trail. There we took a nap and spotted a deer. By the time we left, no one else was around, so we were able to change into our dinner clothes right there in the open. As our final horrah, we ate at Chateau Bordeaux, situated on the tallest point of the island. With a view overlooking Coral Bay and many of the British Virgin Islands, we enjoyed a delicious meal of baked ravioli and swordfish.

It was really hard to leave. We felt so at-home there, cooking meals in our little kitchen, sitting in the hottub every night under the stars, chit-chatting with Sandy and Bear, walking around the quaint roads of Cruz Bay, and boucning along in our Jeep. I was in tears as we drove away from the villa. God was just so good to us. We felt His blessing every day, as every experience was positive and exciting. And it was just such a welcome release of all the wedding stress and chaos. We left our computers behind and turned off our cell phones. There were no appointments or errands or craft projects. It was just me, my husband, and an amazing island to explore. What a gift.

*Sigh.* Okay. Time to do some editing. *Sigh again.*

20 REASONS WHY OUR WEDDING WAS GREAT

I've been putting off writing about the wedding because it's overwhelming to think about summarizing the whole amazing experience for all you nice readers who couldn't be there, but it's time to just jump in and do it. So here you have it.

They say your wedding day is the biggest day of your life, and speaking for myself, as a woman, the woman that is me, it was. I don't say this to put more pressure on any unmarried folks out there. I recognize that there is a lot of pressure on people already to make their wedding day THE MOST beautiful, wonderful, fun, incredible day they've ever experienced, and frankly, people don't need that kind of stress.

Philip and I had set out to make our wedding day beautiful, wonderful, fun, and incredible, but we strongly resisted putting pressure on ourselves to make it THE Greatest Day Of Our Entire Lives.

But let me tell you something. It really was. Hands down.

And it's not necessarily because we devoted the last eight months of our lives to planning it. It just kind of happened that way.

The first thing that made it fantastic was that when I woke up that morning, I was physically unable to do any more planning or preparing. The day was here. Even if I had wanted to squeeze in a few more wedding crafts or nail down any more details just a little more fimly, I couldn't. Too late. It's wedding time. So just the pure relief of knowing that I would be spending zero time on the computer or phone and be making zero stops at Joann Fabrics made the day great even from the first minute after waking.

The second thing that made it great was that I started it in prayer. I laid in bed for a good half hour talking to God and reading Psalm 23: "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not be in want." I told God I was done making requests. Philip and I, and a bunch of other people we love, had spent lots of time over the last few months asking God to give us nice weather that day, and to allow everything to go smoothly, and to show up at our celebration and move in people's hearts. Now that the day was here, I told God I was done wanting things to be a specific way, and I was releasing control. I had done all I could to prepare, and now the whole deal was in His hands. I would accept the day however it rolled out. I should not be in want.

The third thing that made it wonderful was that God did answer those bygone prayers for nice weather. It was warm and sunny, with just a little bit of a breeze. Phew.

The fourth thing: I did not get a headache. I get headaches easily, and I had a number of factors working against me that day - among them: heat, direct sunlight, dehydration (I didn't visit the ladies' room for about 12 hours), and my hair being tightly sculpted with more than 100 bobbypins. But I felt physically great the whole day. Phew again.

The fifth: The building in which myself, the moms, the bridesmaids, and a number of female attendants got ready was about a five-minute walk from the garden in which the ceremony took place. The walk was paved and shielded on both sides by trees and hedges. We all made our way toward the garden at the same time, me on my dad's arm, with all my girls fluttering around me. Everyone was buzzing and beautiful. At a certain point, my dad, my personal attendant, and I had to stop and wait, since Philip was up ahead, ready to walk his mom down the aisle, and we didn't want him to see me. So there the three of us stood in the shade, talking quietly, hearts pounding, me marveling over the beauty of the day and of everyone I had seen so far. It was a Moment.

The sixth: I rounded the corner of the hedge to view the ceremony site for the first time. There everything was, just the way we had assigned everyone to set it up: all the white chairs in neat rows, filled with smiling faces; Aaron and David sweetly playing the music; the two floral arrangements standing austerely on either side of Danny and Jodie; all the attendants lined up and elegant; and my groom, looking handsome and expectant and young and mature all at the same time. I fixed my eyes on him and made my way down the aisle.

The seventh: Everyone stood for me. I knew, of course, that this would happen, but I guess I forgot. When they all stood, I began to cry. I was surprised and humbled and flushed with the intense feeling that I had incredible value. While this is something I know in my mind - that I have great value - and while my loved ones do a wonderful job of reminding me often, actually feeling it so strongly, all at once, down to my bones, down to my very core, is something so beautiful that I can't describe it.

The eighth: Somewhere between Aaron leading out the worship and Danny and Jodie beginning their message, all my butterflies vanished, and I became very relaxed and very happy. The music, the jokes, the encouraging looks of my bridesmaids behind me and my parents seated in the front row, just put me right at home.

The ninth: Taking communion with Philip. We did it privately, and we both softly prayed out loud with each other. In the faint background was David's song, and it was just a moment that we shared alone, with all those people there watching, but silent. Later we were told that unbeknownst to us, two butterflies fluttered around us while we prayed.

The tenth: The kiss. Everyone cheered. I felt embarrassed, but also pleased. My smile about broke my face as we walked down the aisle as husband and wife.

The eleventh: The receiving line. What a rush to hug so many people in a row, and to be told so many times in a row how beautiful you look, and to hear so many congratulations and see so many glowing smiles. Wow.

The twelfth: Running around downtown Rockford with my new husband taking pictures and feeling like the prettiest, most blessed girl alive.

The thirteenth: Sitting and having a glass of water at Cliffbreakers with my husband, waiting to be summoned to make our entrance into the reception. Waiting, on your wedding day, is a great pleasure. On a day that races by faster than any other day, a chance to wait for a bit slows it down, gives you a chance to catch your breath, to remind yourself what is happening.

The fourteenth: Walking into the reception on my husband's arm to see all the gorgeous decorations, to see all the tables filled with people I love, to again, see it all as we had arranged for it to be, looking even more amazing than it had in my mind's eye.

*The fifteenth: During dinner, my most favorite baby in the world, Ana Achata, sitting in a high chair at our table, reached out for me. Her father brought her over to me, and in my arms, she laid her head on my shoulder and hugged me. She wanted to stay like that for a good two or three minutes. To her, it didn't matter that I was wearing this strange poofy white dress or fancy jewelry or more makeup than usual. I was still her friend Erika, and she wanted to hug me. It was awesome.

The sixteenth: Dancing with my dad. At the end of the song, my dad said to me, "You'll never know how much I love you until you have children of your own," and his voice broke. We both cried.

The seventeenth: Mangling our wedding cake with my husband. The pink ribbons on our cake were supposed to be made of frosting, but after trying to cut through them, it became apparent that they were real. The knife pulled them down, along with the smooth edge of the cake, and we were busting up laughing at our inability to cut a cake properly. This led in nicely to me smashing the cake all over Philip's face, followed by him kissing me to spread it to my face as well.

Not the eighteenth: The Dollar Dance. Philip's line was like 10 times longer than mine. What's up with that?

The eighteenth: Watching everyone bring about Dance Party 2005. I have never SEEN such lively dancing at a wedding reception. It made me happy. Very very happy.

The nineteenth: Feeling more beautiful than I've ever felt in my life. I wasn't walking; I was floating. I danced recklessly, because it's impossible to look bad dancing in a gorgeous wedding gown. Don't tell me if this is not true.

The twentieth: The getaway. We walked out to sparklers; my aunt and uncle's convertible Beamer was decorated ridiculously; everyone was waving and cheering as we drove off into the night. It was by far the biggest rush of my life.

ORGANIC LIFE

Today, Philip and I had a conversation about living more organically.

He is California road tripping with his best friend Ben as a final bachelor adventure. On the second day of their jouney, they stopped to see another friend, Daniel, who is participating in a program called Mission Year in Oakland. Basically, Daniel lives with four other young adults in an apartment and has become a contributing and relational part of the local community, through teaching and community service and talking to people he bumps into on the street.

After going to church together, the boys played disc golf and then went to a local market to buy dinner supplies. Philip told me that he suggested that to save time, they buy a tub of hummus, but everyone attacked him, insisting that the hummus be home-made. So they bought the individual ingredients for the home-made hummus and other Mediterrainian munchies and got to work cooking together. When they had finished, they enjoyed the fruits of their labor together and stayed up late into the night talking and watching a 25-minute Mission Year promo video Daniel and one of the other Mission Year guys had shot. Philip told me that they fed seven people for the price of two people to go out to eat somewhere, and it was "GOOD."

This is what I mean by organic. It's often spontaneous, but it's not rushed. It leaves space for "the plan" to evolve; it leaves space for conversation. It incorporates moving your body; it incorporates nature. It involves being together; it involves food with ingredients you can identify. Is is creative; it is musical; it is visual; it takes a little sweat and a little thought. It requires moving at a pace that allows you to hear God speak. When you live organically, you live with purpose, you live with laughter, you live with ever-growing humility and hope. You buy less; you throw away less. You walk more. You serve more. You dance more. You listen more; you ask more questions. You heart breaks more often. People become essential. Rest becomes essential. Prayer becomes like breathing.

Per our conversation, we decided that our first intentional action toward a living a more organic life will be to learn how to make home-made pesto. Pesto is one of God's greatest and most profound gifts, and what could be more Christ-like than carving out time to create it ourselves, with our bare hands, all-naturally, and then enjoy it with friends as we talk and laugh and connect into the night?

WEDDING VS. HONEYMOON

In the past week, two different people (both Christians, by the way) have commented to me that the honeymoon is more important to plan for and allot funds to than the wedding.

The first, a woman, reasoned that the family and friends who would attend the wedding and reception wouldn't appreciate all the effort and cash spent on throwing a great party for all of them to enjoy, so why bother? They'd just complain about the food or the wait service, so forget them. Spend your energy and money on planning a fun honeymoon, and make it about yourselves.

The second was a guy. Now, I understand that men, in general, are more excited about the honeymoon than the wedding itself, because nonstop sex in an exotic locale captures their attention more than frou frou bouquets and one-day-rental tuxes with backless vests. However, this guy I was talking to spoke in terms of "we," as in, both he and his (female) fiance agree that saving up money for the honeymoon and spending time planning it is a higher priority than the wedding itself.

Is it just me, or is that a little jacked up?

I'm not really one to think on the spot. No, I just kind of chuckle awkwardly and look at the floor if somebody says something that for whatever reason rubs me the wrong way. Then I think more about it later, come up with what I should have said, and then tell the blogosphere. So here it is.

Why do we get married? Is it so that we can jet over to Hawaii, play on jet skis, and swim with the dolphins? Do we invite others to our ceremonies just because they'll get ticked if we don't? Is the wedding just something to get over with, so that the real fun can start in the Heavenly Bed®?

No, we get married so we can become one, so God can supernaturally and mystically bind our lives and our bodies together for life; and we do it in the presence of witnesses who love us and who we want to share in the mystery and the joy. These are not pesky people whom we have to begrudgingly feed and entertain before we can get started on the fun stuff. We don't invite them because we're expected to. We invite them because their presence makes the experience deeper. And we include them by planning a meaningful ceremony that will engage their attention, by being involved in and prayerful about selecting the words that are said and the songs that are sung. We thank them and celebrate with them by throwing a great party, with beautiful decorations, delicious food, dancing, laughter, and hugs.

I'll go on lots of vacations with Philip, but I'll only marry him once. We'll travel the world over, but I'll only say "I do" one time. I'll wake up with him in paradise many times in the course of our life together, but I'll only bring all our loved ones together under one roof in the lovely, joyful, exciting occasion that is a wedding once in my life.

To me, all of that is worth spending the time and money on.