CHAPTER 17

It’s Time!

10/12/13

Good morning, when I come back to this journal, I will probably be a married woman. I am, idk, I am shaking, so I guess that means I’m nervous but I’m also pumped to get this underway. I’m getting up there and vowing to be united w/my husband forever, under God. “Come to me all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest”; today is rest and I’m excited to have it. Rest is surreal and I can’t wait to be Mrs. Genova. “I will gather you from all the nations and places where I have banished you.” When God says I will gather you, I feel like I have been gathered by God in regard to my past lifestyle. I should have been banished forever but God gathered me and will bring me back to the place from which he carried me into exile. God, you’re so good. So many families and people are coming to see Pat and I get married. It’s surreal! They are coming to support us and I am so blessed to have that.

The morning of the big day was finally here. I had waited twenty-three years for this very moment, a moment that I didn’t think would come in such a beautiful way. I got up out of my king-size bed and looked out the window; the skies were blue just as I had prayed that they would be. The sky was clear as I looked out of my window towards God. It was expected to rain on my wedding day, and I don’t care what they say, nobody wants it to rain on their wedding day and it is not a sign of good luck to me.

I put on my white bridal tank top and hoodie with my glittery silver flats and was ready to do this thing. We drove out to the venue and made it up to the room where I would get changed. My bridesmaids, to my surprise, were already there and dressed. They looked fantastic and, of course, beautiful dressed in teal lace chiffon gowns. We had two beautiful rooms upstairs in the mansion and Patrick and his groomsmen had two rooms across from us. I tried my best to hide from Patrick even before I had my gown on.

I started to get nervous, I couldn’t do my hair; just curling my bangs had never been so hard in my life. My friend Christy came in to do my makeup and then another friend, Temi, finished up my hair. Our photographer was above and beyond professional. She arrived at the venue early to take pictures of the groomsmen and started to take pictures immediately. She was assertive but not rude; she was superb. My hair was curled and placed into a low bun with a beautiful hair pin that was flush against the back of my head. Now came the part I was waiting for, putting my wedding dress on. My sister helped me get into it, well actually, step into it and pull it up. White buttons ran down the back of the dress from my neck to my hips. The lace on my shoulders glittered like snow. To my surprise, the dress still fit, too, after all that wedding planning stress.

The dress was on and now was the big reveal to all of the women there with me: my mom of course, my mother-in-law, my bridal party, my women’s ministry leader, my friends and our photographer. I felt like a princess, and before we knew it, it was time to start the procession. All the women then joined hands to pray together, the whole time I am was thinking about how beautiful this moment is.  Then one by one the bridesmaids exited the room to walk down the aisle with their partners. The last one to leave was my sister Angelene, my matron of honor. My father walked into the room and saw me in my wedding dress for the first time; he was all smiles his daughter was getting married. I felt myself starting to get emotional. Then the moment was here. 

I locked arms with my father, bouquet in the other hand, and made my way down the steps towards the door to approach my fiancé whom I hadn’t seen all day. The doors opened, the music changed, and I saw all of my loved ones standing in anticipation. I looked up and there was my Patrick. I was so ready for this moment; neither of us cried as I walked down the aisle. My father and I stood before Patrick, my father gave me away and I put my future into Patrick’s hands. I stood before him with my veil over my face. My officiant was Scott Davis, a very special man to me and the husband of my dear women’s ministry leader, Dionne. As he spoke, I looked “Patrick, brother I met in Chicago” in the eyes and saw the man that had asked, “La Micia, will you be my girl?” at ‘The Top of the Rock’. The man that God chose for me to be a suitable helper to. As we exchanged wedding rings we said our vows before our friends and family.

As Scott started to wrap up, I knew the words that I had waited my whole life to hear were next. These were the words that the heart broken fifteen-year-old self had hoped to just hear one day. The girl that was lost, that just wanted to be found and loved.  That girl was now here.  Her moment had finally come, once she let go of her heart and gave it to God to hold.

“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife; you may kiss your bride.” Patrick lifted my veil and for the very first time, I kissed my husband.  And God was there.