The Seven Longest Yards

by Chris Norton

  Cali looked back with a smile on her face and said, “Yes, I do. You risk your life for other people.”

  The firefighter was almost speechless. He had the biggest smile when he said, “Thank you, sweetheart. I hope you have a blessed night.”

  I could barely hold back my tears. Here was this precious girl who so easily could have sulked and felt sorry for herself, but instead, she thought about others.

  As the wedding grew closer, I had to step away from caring for the kids every once in a while to take care of wedding details that had to have my input. I would ask Marisa to watch the girls, or I would have the girls play outside so I could finish up a last-minute detail. Every time, the kids broke down crying. “Miss Emily, I want you,” they’d cry—Miss Emily was their name for me since that’s what the oldest two called me at the group home. “I need you to hang out with me. I miss you.” Their cries killed me. The last thing I wanted was for our kids to question their value and worth, and that’s exactly what the wedding was doing to them, despite my best efforts.

  “Chris, we’ve got to have these kids in our wedding,” I said as I sat on his lap one night after the kids were in bed.

  Chris nodded slowly, deep in thought. “I was thinking the same thing,” he said. “But there will be logistics we have to figure out. We’ll have to get approval from their caseworker for the kids to be in photos and videos. Because they are in the foster care system, their identities must remain private. What if the film crew accidentally captures one of them in the wedding walk shot?”

  I leaned into his chest and sighed. “I know, but we can make sure we come up with a plan for the film crew and have the kids in places where they won’t get into the shot for the wedding walk. They’re always going to be a part of our lives, one way or another. Regardless of any logistics, we have to make this work. They have to know they are family forever.”

  The kids were thrilled when we told them that the little ones would be flower girls and ring bearers, while the older ones would be junior bridesmaids. And, of course, I called Whittley to tell her she had to fly down to be in my wedding party too.

  CHRIS

  Even with me in charge, the wedding was falling into place. People stepped up and offered their services in ways that left me in awe. Don’t get the idea that the whole planning process was smooth or that Emily and I never had any disagreements. More than once, Emily thought of a song she wanted in the ceremony or another random idea almost immediately after I had solidified a plan. As much as I tried not to, I felt uncomfortable taking on the role I had imagined Emily filling. Many times I wished she would take more initiative. Sometimes I threw up my hands and said, “Do you actually care about the wedding or not? Because I really wish you were more excited.” Then there was the moment we realized we hadn’t ordered my wedding ring yet and went to the mall jewelry store with all five kids in tow.

  Yes, taking over wedding planning was uncomfortable for me and watching cartoons and playing with dolls was never on my to-do list, but as I grew as a foster parent, I discovered life has more meaning when you give up your comfort for something greater. These minor inconveniences didn’t compare to the transformation I saw happening each day with our foster children. I loved being a foster parent, and if this was what it took to fulfill my purpose, then I would do it.

  Throughout the planning process, our wedding walk was at the front of my mind. This walk was very different from my graduation walk, not just because it was longer or because Emily and I planned to walk side by side. At my college graduation, my walk was really about me. I wanted to prove that I could do what everyone said I couldn’t. This time, my focus was on God. Emily and I wanted our walk, and our wedding, to point everyone who saw it toward God.

  Of course, we wanted our church, Christ Fellowship, to be involved. We asked one of the pastors to perform our ceremony. He’d been so supportive of us and was happy to be involved. Emily and I also picked a theme verse for our wedding—1 Peter 4:8 (NIV): “Above all, love each other deeply.”

  I was already working with GRO Designs to design a walkway for our aisle to make sure I didn’t roll my ankle walking on the turf. They came up with an aisle runner that would stay completely flat and solid so I didn’t have to worry about hitting an uneven patch of ground during the walk. They spaced each of the words of our theme verse over the seven yards of our aisle runner. Every time I thought about it, I had to close my eyes and shake my head. God’s hand was so evident in every part of our wedding. I had no doubt that he had put Emily in my life at exactly the right time. All the trials, all the struggles had brought us to this moment.

  EMILY

  The one wedding detail I couldn’t let Chris handle was my dress. I still wanted that experience of finding the perfect gown and sharing that moment with my family. I had watched the show Say Yes to the Dress for years and imagined what it would be like in front of that mirror in the Kleinfeld’s showroom. How great would it be to share our story on that show? I thought. I could talk about foster care and maybe even encourage other brides to become foster parents.

  On a whim, I applied online for the show and told them our story. A producer reached out almost immediately and set up a time to do a Skype interview. They told me it was all preliminary and I wouldn’t find out until later if I would be on the show, but I could tell from the producer’s smile that it was a done deal.

  A few weeks later, Chris and I flew to New York City with all our parents and sisters to tape a segment. With this type of reality show, you might expect the producers to stir up drama or ask me to pretend that I couldn’t decide on a dress. But that was not the case at all. The producers, as well as the consultants, seemed genuinely interested in us. They interviewed both Chris and me, and I got to talk about foster care. Chris left the showroom, and my consultant helped me select a few gowns to try on. She had barely laced up the back of the first dress when I said, “This is it.” The lace, sweetheart neckline, and sweeping train looked like they were made for me. When the consultant completed the look with a sparkling crystal belt, I was sold. I tried on a few more dresses, but none of them compared to the first.

  We found out later that Say Yes to the Dress wanted to film our wedding—and our walk—to feature on their show. Chris and I were thrilled. Getting on the show wasn’t about the money. They don’t pay for your dress or travel expenses, and we only received a small stipend when they decided to feature our wedding. To us, this show was another way God could use us to share his message and bring inspiration and hope to more people, while also encouraging other couples to open their homes to foster children.

  Every once in a while, in the midst of the chaos that comes with parenting five children while also planning a wedding, I would look at Chris and be transported back to that moment in his dorm room all those years ago. Before we moved across the country, before my depression, before we were foster parents, I sat in his lap and felt in my soul that if I had Chris, everything would be okay. Now, weeks away from our wedding, his ring on my finger, that feeling was even stronger. I never imagined Chris and I would overcome so many obstacles before we even said “I do.” We still had our whole lives ahead of us, and a whole slate of new obstacles I couldn’t begin to fathom. Life might be uncertain, but my love for Chris was not. I felt incredibly lucky that God placed us together, and that he had used us in such amazing ways already. I couldn’t wait for the moment we promised to love each other for the rest of our lives.

  21

  The Wedding Walk

  EMILY

  “Okay, Chris, keep your eyes closed.”

  Our little girls squealed and clapped with excitement as I trailed into the living room in my ivory lace wedding dress. Chris sat in the living room waiting for me, still wearing the blindfold I had tied around him a few minutes earlier.

  “Miss Emily, you look so pretty!” Sara, our now seven-year-old, sighed. I grinned at her as I stood behind Chris.

  “Are you ready?” I asked.


  “Ready.”

  In ten months Chris went from being unable to take a single step to walking side by side with me well beyond seven yards. He poured everything he had into his hours of training, teaching his body to put one foot in front of the other without the support of someone walking in front of him. Now, one week out from our wedding, it was time for a dress rehearsal. We remembered from Chris’s graduation walk that every detail, from the length of my dress to the shoes we wore, could mean the difference between successfully walking and tripping and falling. I purposely picked a dress that wasn’t too poofy and didn’t have a crazy hemline. The only catch was, I still didn’t want him to see me before our wedding day. That’s where the blindfold came in.

  I helped Chris place his hands in mine and stood him up. “This will probably be a little easier when you can actually see,” I laughed.

  I slipped my arm around his waist and placed my other hand in front for support while Chris held onto my shoulders with one arm. I carefully shuffled my dress out of his way, and we took a step forward. Then another. Then another. I held Chris’s midsection steady as he moved across our living room.

  “Feeling good?”

  He nodded. “We’ve got this,” he said confidently.

  “I think we’re good,” I agreed. “I’m comfortable in my dress. And if you step on it, I’d rather that happen after we’ve already taken photos.”

  Chris laughed. “Agreed.”

  Our oldest foster daughter, Cali, stared at us. “You’re not going to practice more?”

  I shrugged. “I know we can do it. And anyway, that’s not what our wedding day is about.”

  I wasn’t exaggerating. I almost felt eerily calm about our wedding day. I wasn’t worried that we couldn’t make the walk or whether the kids would act up or if some detail had fallen through the cracks. Up until now everything had clicked into place, and not because of Chris or me. God’s hand had already been all over our wedding. I knew he had a plan and was going to see it through to the end.

  For the weekend of the wedding, we planned for everyone, including the seven of us, to stay at a hotel next to our venue. Those plans seemed so simple when I made them. But getting all five kids and everything everyone needed for the weekend proved to be just a little more difficult, which is a huge understatement. I ran around like a crazy person, rounding up the flower girl dresses and ring bearer tuxedos and making sure everyone had their hair ribbons and shoes. But the chaos was totally worth it. Chris and I were so excited to have everyone in one place where we could spend time with our family and friends.

  In the madness of packing up the kids, I turned to Chris every so often and grinned. “I can’t wait to marry you.”

  CHRIS

  The week before our wedding, I had to fly out of state for a few speaking engagements. Each flight, I spent the entire time in the air working on a special wedding surprise for Emily: I wrote out our love story in the form of a poem. By the time I was finished, my wrist was worn out to the point where I had to wear a brace. I told Emily I wrote too many emails, but I don’t know how convincing I was.

  As the day of our wedding drew closer, I continued training for the wedding walk. This time around, the walk was a goal, but it wasn’t the point. The point was celebrating a new beginning. Seven years ago, when I found myself lying on a stretcher, unable to move anything except my head, I worried I was doomed to spend the rest of my life alone. I wondered who could possibly love me when I couldn’t take care of myself. Now God had blessed me with a girl way out of my league, who not only loved me but also pushed me to live for others and gave me a richer, more satisfying life than I could have imagined. I only got one shot at marrying this girl. One shot at a wedding. I could barely even nibble on fruit or carrots, my stomach was so full of nervous butterflies. I couldn’t wait for that moment when I saw Emily in her dress. I knew my excited nerves would turn to pure joy.

  EMILY

  My eyes fluttered open the morning of April 21, and I immediately checked the weather. My app predicted overcast skies and a high in the low eighties. Perfect, I thought.

  When I imagined my wedding day, I always thought I would feel nervous. Isn’t that what brides are supposed to feel? But I didn’t. Instead, I felt overwhelmed with a sense of peace. I knew I was supposed to marry Chris. And I wasn’t nervous about everyone watching me as I vowed to be his wife.

  Marisa, Whittley, and my mom joined me in my hotel room for breakfast, along with the other ladies in my bridal party. We laughed and chatted as a stylist curled and coiffed my hair and a makeup artist finished my makeup.

  My mom zipped up my dress, then stood back with tears in her eyes. “Oh, Emily,” she cried. “You look so beautiful.”

  “Stop! Don’t make my eye makeup run!” I said, fanning my eyes as if I could dry my tears. “Chris hasn’t seen me yet.”

  Originally, I told Chris I didn’t want him to see me until I walked down the aisle. I love traditions, and that’s what I had imagined for my wedding. But as the day crept closer, we realized that would mean we barely saw each other on our own wedding day. We wouldn’t have time to talk, much less enjoy the day. We changed gears and instead decided on what photographers call a “first look.”

  Three hours before the wedding, our photographer led me to a quiet, secluded area away from the rest of the wedding party, surrounded by trees and flowers. I broke into a smile as I saw Chris waiting there in his navy suit, facing away from me.

  “Chris,” I said, tapping him on the shoulder.

  The look on his face as he turned around was priceless. He took in every inch of me as he smiled, his face practically glowing.

  “You look amazing!” he said as I knelt down to hug him. I climbed into his lap and closed my eyes, placing my forehead on his. This right here is what it’s all about, I thought.

  “I have a surprise for you,” Chris said.

  “What?” I said, genuinely surprised.

  “I wrote you a poem; it’s inside my jacket,” he said.

  Now I was downright shocked. “You wrote what? When did you even have time to do that?” I reached inside his jacket and grabbed the poem.

  “Remember when I had to wear that brace? This is why.”

  I laughed as his poem began with our awkward text messages and our first date at a hot dog stand. My laughter turned to tears as he described how he felt about me in those early days, and how deeply he loves me now.

  “Although you scare me with your ideas, I’m excited for our future and what lies ahead, even if it means taking on more than five kids,” he read.

  Then he added, “That was a joke. Don’t take that seriously.”

  I burst out laughing. “I do take that seriously.”

  “Let’s never forget, our strength comes from God. Faith is what is most important. I love you so much,” his poem ended.

  I held his face in my hands and kissed him. “I love you too, Chris,” I whispered. “I’m so thankful for you and for how far we’ve come.”

  “It’s crazy to think of where we were just a year ago,” he said. “I have never had more confidence in us than I do today. I can’t wait to see what the future has for us. This feels so right.”

  All I could do was nod as I wiped tears from my eyes. “I am so lucky I get to be your wife.”

  CHRIS

  My heart pounded as I heard the string quartet play their first few chords of the wedding music. My parents stood next to me, waiting for the wedding coordinator to give us the nod that it was time to go. This is it, I thought.

  I could see the rows of white chairs set up on the golf green, each one filled with someone we loved. I searched until I could see our first foster daughter Ella sitting in the crowd—she was only eleven months old, so unfortunately, she wasn’t able to be in the wedding. We’d invited Trevor and Ella along with their grandparents and mother, who was in the process of being reunited with them.

  Our four-year-old foster son and previous foster son Trevor b
oth shifted nervously next to me, playing with the box and the sign they were going to carry down the aisle. “Are you guys ready?” I asked them. They nodded seriously. It was obvious they didn’t take their job as ring bearers lightly—even though the ring box was empty. No use telling them that, though.

  When we got the signal, my mom walked by my side as my dad pushed me down the aisle. My eyes soaked in each detail as we made our way toward the front. The aisle runner, the music, the flowers draped over the row ends and the arch—everything was beyond incredible. It was well outside the scope of what we could have afforded without everyone’s generous donations. I couldn’t believe this was actually our wedding.

  My parents hugged me as we reached the front, and I turned to wait for Emily. As I watched our sisters and Whittley walk down the aisle, I thought back to what Emily had said for years: “You better cry when I walk down the aisle.” Every time, I told her, “Ah, don’t get your hopes up. I’m not a crier. If you cry, I might too, but don’t bank on it.”

  Then, in the distance, I saw her standing arm in arm with her parents. Like so many years ago, when I first saw her walking toward the Super Dog hot dog stand, my heart pounded as I took in her beauty. I had seen her not an hour before this, but now, in this moment, I was completely overwhelmed with joy and happiness. Tears filled my eyes as I thought, Oh my goodness. This is the girl I get to spend the rest of my life with.

  I locked eyes with her as she walked down the aisle, holding her bouquet and smiling ear to ear. This woman is going to be my wife, I thought. Not my girlfriend. Not my fiancée. My wife. I knew beyond a doubt that Emily was my match. There was no one else for me. I thought of the sacred vow we were about to make, the bond we would share as husband and wife. And then, to my surprise, the tears flowed.

  Emily bent down to hug me when she reached the end of the aisle, and we held hands as the pastor prayed for us. We stole looks at one another and smiled as he delivered the wedding message. We promised to love each other for better or worse, in sickness and in health, ’til death do us part, and exchanged rings. But my favorite part of the ceremony came at the pastor’s suggestion.