NEVER MIND THE JACOBITES

Woodvale Presbyterian Church on the corner of Woodvale road has been about since 1899, waiting quietly and keeping it's head down during the 'troubles' so that it could host a very special wedding in 2008.
 It's previously barricaded windows now uncovered and with a new jet washed facelift the premises were perfect for our big day.

So was the man who was to join us in Holy Matrimony. You may have already guessed that I am no fan of religion, any of them..i'm not picky, and you may well be saying "why get married in a church then?" if you are saying that, then clearly you don't get it and should be asking the question "Why get married at all?" Marriage is an act of commitment, the marriage 'ceremony' is ceremonial..and as such, a church is pretty much part of that ceremony. Most women want the full package when it comes to wedings, and why shouldn't they? 

 But back to our Minister, one Reverend Ken Doherty.

The reason's why I dislike religion are usually upheld and enhanced by the people who represent that religion. The Reverend Doherty did not follow that particular constant. He was kind, and his face had clearly developed around a genuine and constant kindness. He was approachable, unasuming and non judgemental.  

  Clearly he knew the situation with me, had rules he was required to follow, and moreover believed in..but he was not the spitting madman I had previously witnessed at another church, he was not tearing out pages of his particular Bible and force feeding me them . Right away I liked him, and that is usually exactly the opposite of what happens when I meet those of a religious vocation.

His church was pretty, but simple. It was not the hideous Gold draped red velvet monstrosity that I had often witnessed as a boy when atending church with either one of my parents, although usually, and I have to say this, the Catholic church tends to have less issue with being 'In your face' gold and finery' my mothers Church could step up to the plate when a show of force was required.

  Woodvale looked like a place you would go to speak with your God if you needed to, it didn't look rich and it didn't look poor. It was friendly and functional, modest and humble and it's custodian and mouthpiece was similarly easy to get along with. 

 That was perfect for me, and a date was set for the sixth of December 2008, the anniversary of the retreat of Charles Edward Stewart's army during the second Jacobite Rising back in 1745...that was an accident and not intentional.

Malone House in Belfast was to be the location for the Wedding Reception..the Castle was already booked, but the change was in no way a compromise...nor was it any cheaper.

Alison went over earlier than me in the car via ferry, and I was to fly out from Dundee airport nearer the time with my best man Ian and some other guests. My familly were to be flown from Stansted airport to Belfast and then put up in the same hotel as myself, my best man and my usher Farees.

I don't want to write page after page about the wedding, so suffice to say that the day was indeed as perfect as we had hoped it would be and by Sunday the 7th of December 2008 I had myself a wife.

 Alison was more than my wife though, she was my smile..I said so to all present during my weding speech, and I meant every word of it...I had a reason to smile again, a reason to stand tall and get back in the ring again.

Redemption for me was a strawberry blonde from Belfast with sparkling eyes and a heart like a TARDIS...