House on the Rock

For a long time, I would reflect on my season of engagement and remember the stress. There was sweetness, of course. But also constant list-making, errand-running, and the hectic non-stopness that comes with leaving and cleaving — finalizing details, applying for jobs, graduating college, finding an apartment, and stepping into a life completely different than anything ever before. I think any bride-to-be would agree. 

But those reflections of stressful sleepless nights have nothing on my sister-in-law, Riley, who was doing every single one of these things while her mother-in-law was dying. 

When Cam got the news that our mom had a week to live, Riley was at home in Ohio. She was doing what every bride-to-be should do in their wedding week: nails, flowers, hair appointments, seating charts… not likely expecting that earth-shattering phone call from her soon-to-be-groom: “They gave my mom a week.” 

With a grace and strength that can only be attributed to her identity in Christ, Riley calmly responded, “Then let’s get married tomorrow.” 

Cam came running back into the hospital room while family sat around Mom’s bedside. His eyes were bright, hopeful. “We’re going to get married tomorrow!” 

Immediately, the plans and preparations were set into motion. Pastor Terry and his wife, Kelly, were already at the hospital, so he agreed to do the ceremony — likely the first wedding ceremony he’d thrown together in less than 24 hours. We formulated a list of family and friends we wanted in attendance, then divided and conquered, determined to make this happen. 

I’ll never forget the responses on the other end of the phone. So many gasps, sobs, and joyful proclamations of, “we wouldn’t miss it for the world.” 

Cam casually mentioned the idea to Mom’s nurses, who immediately leaped into action as well. Within a matter of moments, the hospital chapel was reserved, security had agreed to escort guests through a side door, and nurses promised to do everything they could to get her in that chapel by 4:30 the next day. To make it even better, one of her nurses commissioned her professional-baker friend to make a towering marble wedding cake. Kayla and Mike Lang drove three hours bearing cameras and bouquets. Pastor Jeff brought his guitar to lead worship as Carissa decked out the chapel with all things old, new, borrowed and blue.

The more in-depth we go, the more beautiful this story becomes. A nurse, Alicia, had her cosmetology license. She showed up on Sunday prepared to curl a wig for my mama and do makeup for anyone who asked. A travel nurse, Kyle, went out and bought a suit that night — navy with a pink tie, Mom’s favorite colors. My aunt Nicole showed up early on the wedding day to make sure Mom didn’t have any premature visitors — we were determined to protect her rest. And Mom’s best friends, Amanda and Kelly, raided our home looking for dresses, jewelry, suits, ties, and belts. When they realized they forgot to grab shoes, Amanda immediately unstrapped her sandals and fastened them on Mom’s feet.

I’m sure I’m leaving out many things, but it felt like we had an entire army battling in prayer over this day. All of our church families were crying out — begging God that doctors would allow her to be wheeled downstairs, that Mom would be awake and alert, that Cam would get to dance with his mama — not in the way he expected, but in sweet recognition of God’s kindness nonetheless. 

The chapel filled quickly. Worship music played over the speakers. Guests and family anxiously awaited the moment when Carrie Saunders was rolled down the hallway to watch her son marry his beautiful bride. While the mood of the ground level was sweet and celebratory, upstairs was frantic.

I had stayed back in Mom’s room to run last minute errands for whoever needed it — water for Mom, makeup for Riley, bouquets for family…I just needed to be doing something. The plan was for Alicia to put Mom’s wig on, followed by a bit of blush and eye shadow, and then we’d get her into her dress, up on the chair, and down to the chapel. It seemed like everything was going to be perfect.

There was only one hangup: 

Mom wasn’t waking up.

To be continued.