I’m not a great fan of weddings. I know, I’m a pastor of a church but I’m still not a fan of weddings. Some years ago Deb and I were invited to a wedding at King’s – we have quite a few each year. I wasn’t doing the service – I’ve delegated that task now to others on our team.
The reality was - I didn’t want to go, but Deb did. I looked at my schedule leading up to that weekend. At that stage we were doing only two meetings on a Sunday but I thought, you know, I want some down time. I just want to be at home, to be cared for and looked after. Anyone relating to this?
I’m a godly husband, so I say to Deb, ‘We’ll go!’… but my initial reaction is right because by the time Saturday morning arrives, the last place I want to be is at this wedding and the trouble is I’m not very good at hiding such feelings. So we turn up at the wedding and Deb knows how I’m feeling and now there’s a little bit of tension between us because emotionally I’m dying on my feet. I just don’t want to be there. I don’t want to connect with any more people – I’m peopled out. But my wife doesn’t want to get isolated from the church because I’m burned out – she wants to connect, to build friendship and support this wonderful young couple who are getting married. And now I’m starting to tell people - I’m talking to my fellow elders and I’m saying, ‘I want a break. I don’t want to be here.’ So Deb says to me, ‘Shall we go?’
This is not a good question. This is a no win question, ok? ‘Shall we go?’ means I say, ‘No, let’s stay.’ And I’m continuing to die. But if I say, ‘Yes, let’s go!’ – I’m dead anyway. So we decide to retreat from the wedding after the service and go home but then we have a decision to make because we’ve been invited to the reception. I love receptions. I don’t. I’m lying…
To be continued…
One Hundred and Forty Years in Cape Town
4 months ago