Plans gone awry
Our wedding was meant to be on the 5th of June, 2021, in Oxford. Planning a wedding abroad, during a a pandemic when most borders were closed, meant countless anxious prayer and voice messages, emails apologising for another change of plans or asking for patience as we waited for more news. About a month before the wedding, we heard with joy that Singapore would allow long term pass holders like Jacob to return from abroad, removing our last obstacle to flying to England.
A miracle, we thought, all our prayers were answered.
Just a few days later on the 8th of May days we found out that there had been another development that meant that if we flew to England, Jacob would not be able to fly back. Initial disbelief gave way to frantic resistance: calls with border control, so much time spent looking on long regulation websites, but all to no avail. We'd have to marry in Singapore, and that meant getting married just over ten days later on the 22nd of May when we'd initially planned to register our marriage in a small, family-only, administrative service.
How does one plan a wedding in ten days?
I told our Pastor, who made it possible to have the wedding service in our church sanctuary, and then said that his wife wanted to make salsa pots for all our guests which made me cry. I asked a friend if I could wear her wedding dress and she said yes - and her mother-in-law altered it to fit me in two hours. One week before the wedding Jacob and I went kayaking and on the way there I texted someone I'd worked with in the museum, asking if they might be our photographer. They said yes. We went kayaking, and Jacob got the worst sunburn of his life. I asked friends here if they might be bridesmaids, and they said yes. We asked fifty people we loved if they might come to a wedding in a week's time, and all of them but two said yes.
The day before the wedding, the bridesmaids came over while I phoned our pastor to hear what exactly would happen the next day. We practiced 'walking down the aisle' by walking down the corridor leading from my bedroom to the living room, we ate dinner and then I tried to sleep.
The morning of the wedding
I woke up, my usual time, and pulled on an old t shirt and shorts and walked to the living room. Dad woke up soon after me, and seeing me getting ready to go out he asked: "Going for a run?" "Just a walk today," I said. "Then exercise, after?" he asked (I'd often do some strength exercises after a walk in the morning) and then he teared up and pulled me in for a hug. I met Jacob on the Green Corridor for a walk, and to pass him some shoe polish. We talked about Philippians 4, the bible passage we'd read that morning, which speaks of joy, peace and contentment:
“Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice......The Lord is at hand; do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus......I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content."
Despite all the changes to our plan, I felt so content that morning walking with Jacob, my hand in his. It was a little moment of quiet and contentment before we headed back to our separate homes and begun to get ready.
Back at home, I took on the roles of quiz-creator, baker, hairdresser, photographer, and bride all at once. Emily arrived and did make up for Hannah, herself and me, and I ate some peanut butter on Mum's bread machine bread, and some of Hannah's salad, and then hopped into my dress, braided my hair into a bun, and stuck some flowers into it. I think I really felt like a woman on her wedding day when I picked up the bouquet Mum had (with much stress and loving kindness) arranged with our florist. It had beautiful Juliet roses, peonies,
Uncle Marcus was driving Dad and me to the church, and after we set off I realised I'd forgotten my tracetogether token (this was definitely a pandemic wedding) and we had to go home to get it.
The wedding service
Weixin and Emily were there at the door when I arrived, and they pulled me in for a hug. Dad and I walked into the ante-room behind the sanctuary and I felt slightly overwhelmed by the knowledge that I was about to leave my family and join Jacob as his wife. "Dad," I said, "Can we pray?" I don't remember what he said, but I do remember he sat with me and prayed for me, and that I knew he loved me very much.
The Arrival of the Birds started playing, and Weixin, then Emily, then Hannah walked into the sanctuary and finally, Dad and I did too. Our guests were sitting in pairs (to fulfil government guidelines) and there were beautiful flowers up and down the aisle, but in that moment I only had eyes for Jacob.
The service passed in a blur. Listening to Pastor Rodney's challenge (words that have echoed through our first eight months of marriage) with Jacob's arm around me, making our vows and feeling so deeply the power of those time-tested words, seeing faces from England read scripture and pray over us, nervously trying to say thank you to everyone when words couldn't quite do gratitude justice, throwing my bouquet in the air with the bridesmaids in joy, and standing with Jacob as Leonard and Jonathan prayed a blessing for marriage over us.
After
After the service, Uncle Marcus drove us in the golden sun to Ama's house, where we served tea to Ama, Uncle Tom, Auntie Alice and Bee in a tea set Uncle Tom had bought that morning, after Dad said, "Oh, don't you think it could be a good idea to..." Ama was in her usual soft button-down shirt, but she's combed her hair very neatly and she smiled and smiled when she saw us.
Back at home, Tim had ordered Indian takeaway, which we ate with Prosecco. I wore a batik apron over the white dress to avoid curry stains. We called Catherine and played a quiz between our families of obscure (and not so obscure) facts about our relationship. I'd set the quiz so I didn't play, and Catherine won, beating even the groom (although to be fair, Jacob gallantly abstained from some questions that he knew to give others a fair chance). Then we had tea and the wedding cake Hannah and I baked in the morning: a chocolate hazelnut cake that had been on the cards for one of the tiers in our UK wedding cake.
Still dressed in our wedding dress and suit, Jacob and I said goodbye to my family and walked back to Jalan Hang Jebat along the green corridor. Cyclists on night cycles went past us (one of them saying "Wah! You scared me!" - possibly interpreting the white dress as something more paranormal) their lights zipping through the darkness. As we walked, we noticed little flickers in the distance, not quite bike lights. When we got closer we saw they were candles in peanut butter jars, lighting our way to our new home.
Nothing happened as we planned, but God provided in miracles great and small. In the eight months we have been married we have faced trials we never saw coming. The words we said on our wedding day - that we would hold each other in sickness and in health, for better and for worse, and that we would love and cherish each other - have become realities. Perhaps the greatest miracle is this simple one I've known for a long time. Jacob loves me with the deep abiding love that comes from God, and that is enough.
