Grant and I kneeled together at the prayer bench and Grant took both my hands in his. We had just made our vows to one another, and now we were starting the first few moments of our marriage in prayer.

Yes, you read the title correctly. No, I’m not quitting writing Texas Heart . . .

I actually FINISHED writing it!

After 10 months, I finally finished writing the story that I thought was going to take just a few blogposts to write.

I just want to say thank-you to those of you who encouraged me to keep writing and not give up!

There were so many times that I almost stopped writing because I just didn’t know if it was interesting, or I felt like it was getting too long, or I didn’t know if the story was actually encouraging or beneficial to anyone.

So, I really just want to thank those of you who encouraged me along the way to keep writing. I  now have this story to share with AudreyKate and any future children Grant and I may have! And now I don’t have to worry about forgetting all the details because everything is written down.

So, thanks y’all!

Check back for the final 2 posts of Texas Heart.

{For those who don’t know, my dad is a pastor, so he is the one who married Grant and me.}


My dad and I slowly approached the large wooden doors of the church sanctuary. I held on tightly to his arm as the beat of my own heart seemed to almost drown out the music that was resonating through the halls.

Grant looked tall and sharp in his Marine Corps uniform.


His black shoes shined and his golden uniform buttons glimmered.


But nothing could compare to the beam of his face when his eyes met mine.


Grant had the biggest smile on his face that I had ever seen. He didn’t look nervous or apprehensive. He just looked happy. So happy.


And now, I was smiling uncontrollably too.


Suddenly, I could feel and see again.


And I began to not only know how special and important this moment in our lives was, but I began to take it in.


As my dad and I made our way down the long aisle, my eyes were fixated on one person alone: Grant Castleberry.


As we reached the front of the church, the music stopped.


For a long moment, there was dead silence as we stood there at the front of the church. It was almost as if time stood still as everyone held their breath and waited for what was about to take place.


And then my brother asked, “Who gives this bride to be married?“


And I heard my dad answer, “Her mother and I.”

My dad lifted my veil and kissed me on the cheek. I couldn’t believe he was giving me away.


As I stood there with the tears falling, my dad gently took my hand and led me to Grant. He placed my hand in Grant’s hand.


I hadn’t expected my dad to do that, to lead me to Grant. It struck me as such a visible symbol of what was taking place.


My dad had protected me and had taken care of me since I was a little girl, and now he was entrusting me to the protection of Grant.


Grant grasped my hand tightly, and I found courage.


Together, we climbed the stairs to the altar.


We faced one another, as my dad’s voice begin to resonate throughout the sanctuary,


“Dear friends, we are gathered here together in the presence of Almighty God and His holy angels, to unite Grant Robert Castleberry and GraceAnna Maude Broggi in holy matrimony.”


“At the dawn of human history,” he proceeded, “God saw the need of a man for a woman, and a woman for a man. And after God had evaluated each dimension of His creation, six times over He said it was good. But then after He created Adam, He said it was not good. 


My dad looked down at his open Bible as he continued,


“God said in Genesis 2,  ‘It is not good for the man to be alone; I will make him a helper suitable for him.’ Out of the ground the LORD God formed every beast of the field and every bird of the sky, and brought them to the man to see what he would call them; and whatever the man called a living creature, that was its name. The man gave names to all the cattle, and to the birds of the sky, and to every beast of the field, but for Adam there was not found a helper suitable for him. So the LORD God caused a deep sleep to fall upon the man, and he slept; then He took one of his ribs and closed up the flesh at that place. The LORD God fashioned into a woman the rib which He had taken from the man, and brought her to the man. The man said,
‘This is now bone of my bones,
And flesh of my flesh;
She shall be called Woman,
Because she was taken out of Man.’
For this reason a man shall leave his father and his mother, and be joined to his wife; and they shall become one flesh.”

Our hearts joined in worship as we sang one of our favorite hymns, There is a Redeemer.


My brother, Grant, read one of our favorite verses, John 7:37-39.


“If anyone is thirsty, let him come to Me and drink. He who believes in Me, as the Scripture said, ‘From his innermost being will flow rivers of living water.’”


Then my dad gave the most encouraging and challenging sermon about the seriousness of the commitment we were about to make to one another and the beauty of marriage as it reflects Christ and the church.


First, my dad looked at me and charged me to be Grant’s helper and to submit to Grant’s leadership. He began to clarify the highly misunderstood term of “submission.” My dad explained that Jesus is our perfect example of submission. He is equal with the Father, and yet He submits to the Father.


“A home needs a head.” My dad continued, “Without a head, its dead, and if there’s two heads, you have a monster.”


He went on to share that submission is necessary in every facet of society in order for it to function in a healthy way.


Then, my dad turned to Grant. He charged him to be a “servant-leader.” He told Grant that his love for me was to be revealed in sacrificial leadership. He was to love me as his own body.


My dad looked directly at Grant as he spoke, “On this day, I am passing the baton with my wife, Audrey. We are giving you now the responsibility to protect her, to nourish her . . .”


My dad’s voice broke for a moment. I felt the tears rising again as I realized what a special moment this was.


My dad continued, “and to take care of her. And I know you will give your very, very best. And when you love GraceAnna, you really love yourself, because the two become one. So really, whatever you do to GraceAnna, you do to yourself.”


My dad went on further to explain the equality of our persons and the differences in the way that God created us from 1 Peter 3:7 which says that the woman is the “weaker vessel.”


He then asked a series of questions to help us understand the passage.


“What’s weaker? Fine japanese silk or burlap? Is burlap better than silk?”


“What’s weaker? Cast iron or gold? Is gold inferior to cast iron?”


“What’s weaker? Porcelain or stainless steel?” 


“Now with porcelain you can make a fine china cup and with stainless steel you can make a high quality hammer, but you can’t drink out of a hammer and you can’t drive nails with a cup. 


“God made you different, he gave you different roles that He might make you one.”


And then my dad asked a question that I will never forget, “Why is submission so very important and why is sacrificial love so critical? Because it illustrates the sacrificial love Christ has for His people.”


“As you know,” he went on to explain, “One of the great misconceptions of Christianity is that you can earn your way to heaven. That if somehow the good outweighs the bad, God will say, ‘Come on in!’ But the Apostle Paul said, ‘If a man could be saved by his good deeds, than there was no need for Christ to die.’ Christ’s death was not a mistake, it was not an act of martydom, it was a choice that He made. He chose sacrificially to give himself for us.”


My dad turned to Grant and said, “In the same way you are to sacrificially love GraceAnna.“


He turned to me and said, “And you, GraceAnna, are to mimic the Lord Jesus as well.”


“And the only way that you can do that,” he said now, looking at both of us, “is in God’s strength.”


I had thought before the wedding, that I would probably be too nervous to really listen to my dad’s sermon. But I heard every word of my dad’s charge to us. 


It hadn’t been just a few short and sweet words about marriage, it had been a solemn challenge.


As my dad closed his sermon, Grant took my hands in both of his.


And he started to tell me, before God, and everyone present that he would always love me, that he would always take care of me through the good times and the bad, and that the only thing that would ever separate his commitment to me was death.


Grant stared unflinchingly into my eyes as he spoke and I knew that he meant every word.


I watched as he slipped the gold ring onto my finger.


And then it was my turn.


For a moment, the thought crossed my mind . . . Am I ready for this?


I knew that there would be no going back. I was about to make a solemn vow before God to always love the man that stood in front of me until death separated us.


This man, who just a year ago, had seemingly dropped out of nowhere.


This man, who so naturally, had become my best friend.


This man, who God had so clearly brought into my life.


I took Grant’s hand in mine and stared into his eyes.


God, this is it. I prayed silently. I promise to be committed to Grant until death separates us.


Grant’s gaze was still fixated on me. And I began to promise him that I would love him, respect him, submit to him, and take care of him.


I slipped the gold band that had once belonged to Grant’s father onto his finger.


We stood there, staring at one another in astonishment as my dad proclaimed,


“I now pronounce you man and wife. What God has joined together, let no man separate.”


“Now I can’t think,” my dad continued, “of a better way to begin your marriage, than in prayer.”


to be continued…

Light shone brightly through the slightly clouded glass of the small upstairs window in the old Pinckney Retreat plantation home.

I could hear birds singing as I slowly awoke from the exhausted state of sleep I had been in.

I abruptly sat up when I realized that it was my wedding day.

I jumped out of bed and made my way over to the window eave. I couldn’t believe that the weather was so perfect.

“It’s a beautiful day!” I exclaimed excitedly to my mom who was also just waking up.

Neither of us could fall sleep the night before, so we had stayed up talking into the wee hours of the morning.

Originally I had planned to stay the night with some of my bridesmaids, but in the end, it had worked out that it was just my mom and me. And I was glad for it.

The week had been so busy with all the last minute wedding details that we had hardly had time to talk.

It was a bittersweet time together. In a sense, I was saying good-bye to a certain aspect of our relationship.

I was about to step into the role of Grant’s wife and move far away.

Even though at times I wondered if I was prepared for what lay ahead of me, I knew my mom had been preparing me for this day for a long time.

I stared out the window at the treetops that were slightly swaying in the marsh breeze.

I had dreaded the thought of waking up to rain on my wedding day and I had half expected it to be dreary when I woke up.

The weather had called for it, and I had been less than optimistic.

But no matter how hard I tried, my hopes had been high for a clear day. It was my wedding day after all.

“Thank you God for giving Grant and I this beautiful day! I pray that You would be honored today.” I whispered.


I started gathering my things and getting ready to head to the church where I would get my hair and make-up done. I was filled with nervousness and excitement. By the end of the day, I would be a Castleberry.

 ——————————–

My mom tied the yellow satin sash around my waist and fastened the last buckle on my gold peep toe shoes.

She stepped back and looked at me in the small church room where I had gotten dressed.

I couldn’t believe I was wearing my wedding dress.

“You look beautiful,” my mom said with tears in her eyes.

I glanced into the mirror and felt my heart jump. Like most girls, I can usually find something in my reflection to regard as less than perfect.

But not today.

I loved the way two dear women from our church had fixed my hair and make-up.

I loved the way my pearly barrette was tucked “just so” into my hair.

I loved the way the tiny golden beads on my veil glistened in the sunlight that filtered in through the window.

I loved that my wedding dress felt light and airy and looked so creamy white.

I loved the way the bows on my golden peep-toe shoes slightly poked out from the hem of my dress.

As I looked at my mom, my eyes brimmed with tears too.


How in the world was I going to make it through the day?


I was so excited, but I was nervous as well.

I kept thinking about so many things.

I thought about the first time Grant told me howdy and how he had flown all the way from Japan to see me.

And now, this moment would also soon become a memory; a memory that would be a part of my life forever.

“GraceAnna,” I heard my dad whisper.

I turned at the sound of his voice and looked at him. The tears that were brimming in my eyes now started to fall, making a trail through my make-up.

“You look beautiful, ” my dad said smiling. I could tell he was trying to hold back the tears too.

“Look,” he said grabbing my hand. “Today is going to be a great day! We are going to make it through this and have fun.”

I think my dad knew what I  needed to hear at this moment in my life. I needed his encouragement. I needed to take a deep breath and still my knocking knees.

“I just saw Grant out in the hallway,” my dad continued,  “he looks so excited.”

I broke out in a smile as I thought about Grant. Soon to be my Grant.

My dad stepped out of the room for a moment and my mom gathered the bridesmaids together for a word of prayer.

When we were done, I no longer felt scared or nervous. Instead I felt excited.

My dad walked back into the room, “It’s time.”


The bridesmaids filed out of the small room and toward the sanctuary.

As we got closer, I could hear the music playing.

I held on to my dad’s arm tightly and I could feel my heart pulsating through my entire body.

This was the moment I had been waiting for.

to be continued….
{I’m almost finished with Texas Heart . . . I’m glad I didn’t know that it was going to take me this long to write it or I probably never would have started! Looking forward to finishing the last post(s) . . . for those of you still reading along!}

“What’s that?” Grant asked as he looked down at the cream colored envelope I held in my hands.

Grant had just arrived at Pinckney Retreat, where my mom and I were staying the night on the eve of our wedding day.

Even though it was late, I had asked Grant to meet me there. I had something I wanted to give him.

I struggled to find words to answer Grant’s question. A flood of memories filled my mind as I thought about the envelope in my hand.

I thought about my college dorm room where I spent so much time praying and thinking. I thought about  my runs around the Clemson campus where I thought about my future and prayed for God’s will to be done in my life. I thought about the bench on the small hill in the Botanical Gardens where I sat  and cried when I felt like nothing was working out in my life like I had hoped and planned. These were memories that I knew would be difficult to ever explain to Grant.

These memories were interwoven into what I was about to give Grant. They were apart of who I was now.

I glanced down at the envelope in my hands. It looked thick, but in fact, there were only five letters inside. Five letters that I had written to my future husband over the span of my four years in college.

It was something I had started my freshman year after hearing about how my Bible study leader had started the practice.

I was hesitant to do it. I worried that my “future husband” might think it was silly. I worried that I might not ever get married and that the letters would become a testament to an unfulfilled desire.

But I had decided not to second-guess and over-analyze myself. I had decided in the Fall of 2004 to write a letter to the man that I hoped God had for me. Over the next three years I would write four more.

They weren’t long. And they were more like prayer letters than anything else.

Each time I had written one had been during a time when I was struggling with loneliness and the desire to get married.

Just a few minutes before Grant had arrived to meet me at Pinckney, I had pulled out the most recent letter I had written and read through it. It was dated September 2007.

One section of it read,
. . .I am praying for you tonight. I am praying you will find me! I want you to know that I will respect your leadership in my life. I will submit to you. I will encourage you. I will go with you wherever you feel God calling you. I can promise you these things because our God is able to give me the strength to do them. Waiting for you is hard, but also so good. God is growing me into the woman He desires me to be. . .When I write these letters, somehow its an expression of my faith in God for His best in my life. I never want to lose that trust. . .

As I scanned some of the other letters, it seemed that all along I had been writing to Grant.

In 2005 I wrote,
Be faithful, be bold, let Jesus Christ be glorified in you. I can’t wait to one day see all the great things God is doing in your life. Don’t worry, I’m not going to settle for anyone but you, even if it means I never meet you, even if it means that marriage isn’t God’s calling for me!  Anyway, I am trusting God for His timing.

I had folded the letters up and put them back in the envelope as I had waited for Grant to arrive.

Now he was here.

He was my future husband. He was the one that God had put on my heart to pray for during college.

“Well, it’s actually some letters I wrote to you.” I finally responded to Grant’s question. “Letters I wrote to you before I knew you.”

Grant’s smile widened as he reached for the envelope.

I watched as he read each one. It felt kind of funny handing them over to him. What would he think?

As I watched Grant read them, I realized that the letters themselves weren’t really that important. For the most part, they were just a young woman’s ramblings of her future hopes and dreams.

But those five letters represented something. They represented an answered prayer. They represented to me a God who had placed a desire in my heart and fulfilled it.

“Thank you, GraceAnna.” Grant said as he closed the last letter and looked at me. “I will treasure these for as long as I live.”

I smiled. I was so glad that he didn’t think they were silly.

“You’re welcome.“I said.

We sat on the edge of the brick porch for a while, seeing only the stars and moon and hearing random noises from the salt marsh.

We were both tired, but we were so happy. We were on the cusp of something big.

We sat there until the clock passed midnight and our wedding day dawned.

“I better go,” Grant said with a smile on his face. “Can’t wait to see you at the alter.”

As he walked away into the darkness, I listened to the sound of his cowboy boots thud against the old stone walkway. I listened until I heard his car door slam and the sound of his engine pull out of the drive.

I sat there alone in the dark for a few more minutes.

“Thank you, God. Thank you for this.”


I went inside and climbed up the narrow wooden staircase that led upstairs. My mom was already in bed and I slid in next to her and tried to sleep.

But the sleep wouldn’t come.

“Mom, are you awake?”

“Yes,” she replied.




to be continued. . .

Today we are thankful to our family and friends who poured into our lives before and after our August 22, 2009 wedding day.