We’re getting married!

There’s never enough time. That’s always been the story for Nick and Debbie. It started on a phone, if you can believe it. They weren’t expecting much, like walking to the sea and just dipping a toe in the water. Is it too cold? Two messages at first, then little dots on the screen. Dots turned into questions, and questions asked, and more answers to more questions. Typing turned into calls, and all of a sudden there was a voice to a name, and it was as if they had always known each other. He could tell she laughed a lot. She was sharp, fierce, straight to the point. He was thoughtful, took fifty words where ten could do. Shyness turned to giggles. In the dark of the night, in the mornings, through the gaps in the working day, they learned each other. He would sit at the top of the third floor, she in her flat. Picture a map, two distant, old towns. Then picture two figures, walking a slow journey from the old place they once lived, to a new place, right in the middle. That’s what Nick and Debbie did. God gave them each a narrow road to walk, and, putting one foot in front of another, they walked to a new place. To each other. Surprisingly, this new place was Little Venice. They met for the first time by the river. Debbie can still see Nick now, his favourite coat on, hair done, walking by her for the first time. He was an hour late, yes. But she forgave that. He still remembers the first time they kissed. It was cold out there, she reminds him, but he can’t remember that. He just remembers her. No hours in the day were enough for them: for their chats, the jokes, the honest truth-telling and the quiet understanding. These two. It’s like God wrote them in different fonts, but they’re made of the same letters. They love one another’s families as their own. They care about what the other person cares about. They know one another’s hearts. They laugh together, really laugh. They enjoy moments because the other person is there. Paris, Ripa Teatina, Canterbury, Brighton, Birmingham, soon Rio de Janeiro – the colours are brighter, the places more beautiful, because they are there together. They could visit every city in the world, and they’d not get bored with each other. Ripa Teatina is painted perhaps a little brighter than all the others. It was there, on the 24th of July, that Nick took her to the top of the mountains – words cannot do justice to the beauty of that vista – took her by the hand, and asked her if she would marry him. She could scarce get her words out for happiness; he had to ask her twice. She answered him with three words: “yes, yes, and yes!” If you asked Nick who Debbie is, if you asked him to sum her up, he’d say too much to write, but he’d say this: she is fierce, smart, confident, kind, protective. She’s my darling and my love. She calls me to step out and be confident. She builds me up. And if you asked Debbie, she’d answer quickly and certainly: he is kind, gentle, intelligent and deeply caring. He teaches me how to manage the storms; he supports me with everything and holds me up when I’m fearful. Extraordinary things aren’t built in a day. Anyone with anything extraordinary will tell you that. If extraordinary love is like a vast mosaic, then every ordinary moment, every small choice, is a small tile. Some tiles might be darkly coloured, some be bright with joy, but together they all make a beautiful image that brings delight to God’s heart. On the 19th December, this mosaic will get a bit bigger and more beautiful, because this is the day they become man and wife. And even after a lifetime together, it wouldn’t be enough. All the seconds in the world wouldn’t be enough to satisfy them: to reach the depths of another person, it’s a feat few truly achieve. And Nick and Debbie - they would end mid-sentence, still wanting to hear the other’s voice once more. Written by the brilliant Immy Gemmell