Step One, Find the Isle.

So I got engaged and then I got giddy.
Filled with excitement of the upcoming milestone celebration, I jumped ring first into the Martha-Stewart-Like-Planning of My Wedding.

Church.
Call the church.
Easy, I attend church, I have a church!
My first phone call ended in shock and disappointment.
“It costs how much? You are booked until when?” All along, I thought the church would be cheapest and the easiest of all the extensive line items.
9 months to plan a wedding? Even though 9 months is long enough to make, plan, gestate and birth a little life form, apparently it is not long enough to plan a walk down the isle.
So fine, I thought. I don’t need that church. There is a church on every corner and lucky for me my parents made me try out each Christian Religion during childhood so I could really stake claim at any of them. I started hunting armed with my computer and blackberry. Lunch hours were filled with church visits, dragging co-workers along to uncharted terrain of the Tampa Bay area.
Another lunch hunt and I set out to find My Church. Most churches are locked a result from the world becoming to hurtful of a place. Now, crisis must come by a scheduled appointment to pray. But this little historic church near our reception site tucked into a perfect little neighborhood has less to fear than most, maybe it will be open. I tried the door, and shock, it was open! I went inside and there were three people spread throughout. I thought this is nice – people coming to pray on their lunch hour. I spied a door from the Chapel into the main church and was planning on saying a “please help this wedding” prayer before venturing into the main church. Just then, a man donning a white robe made an entrance with a Bible and stood before the alter. “Uh oh, I told myself, this is mass!”
“Good Afternoon.” The Father announced looking straight at me.
“Good Afternoon, Father” I said looking bewildered returning the gaze.
“We have come together this afternoon to share in a memorial service of a dear friend,” he says still speaking directly to me.
“Oh my, are you really?” I question - yes, outloud - even more unintelligible than the first response. I start to stand.
“Yes, yes we are. But I am not telling you to for you to leave, you are welcome.”
“Oh, thank you, but I will leave you. Umm, I am sorry,” I fumble. “Umm, well I am sorry, please, really sorry,” I continue to fumble and walk quickly to the door. “Bye, have a good … well, sorry, umm” I can’t get to the door fast enough. These ten steps might be the longest I have ever walked and my legs are feeling a little faint, each step pronounces my awkward presence even more so.
I open the historic beautiful arched wood door and almost run out.
And then I hear the loudest “WHAM” behind me.
I spin around to see the door sitting there, silent now, mocking me. I forgot to hold the door and the heavy piece of history slammed its beauty shut.

Lesson learned. Patience. I went back to My Church all scheduled our wedding date. And I could not be more pleased.