Barely, just barely the bravely yellow sun peaks through the trees lining the horizon. Dainty ice crystals, as yet unmarred by anything more pressing than 11 degree temperatures, try to sparkle as the shy light hits them. The sun turns the snow faintly pink.
It is a beautiful day.
A cup of coffee, close enough to my forearm is all I need in order to wax eloquent on this day of days.
Today my friend Jen is marrying her best friend, Jeremy, in a ceremony at the Conservatory in the Indianapolis Zoo. Last night, at the rehearsal, as the lights flickered on in the huge glass room, we all oohed and aah-ed the beauty and made appropriate comments as such to the bride and her mother. Dinner was served at Harry&Izzy's down town, and as people sliced through their filet mignot (or chicken, or salmon-- who goes to a steak place and orders fish?) comfortably full after lobster bisque in a golden, soothing atmosphere, they ooh-ed and aah-ed abouot the incredible food, the ambiance, etc. etc.
I love events like this. If you know me at all, you know that one of my biggest problems is struggling with the lack of such events. Not because I don't love the more casual family dinners that I usually gather around (although my parents make amazing displays of love multiple times in a year through classy dinners and down-town experiences), but because I genuinely revel in, and am most relaxed when other people would probably be least comfortable. I love ambiance, and balanced menu, people talking in appropriately social voices, without coarse jesting, inappropriate comments, and bad manners. I know, it sounds horribly snobby, and I don't want anyone to think that I am turning up my nose at many wonderful, casual evenings. This is just something I love. So I ooh-ed and aah-ed with the best of them.
But the moment in which I wanted to ooh and aah most profusely, and the moment for which I wished I had saved all my oohs and aahs, didn't come in the ambiance that I so admire, or the glitz or glam that I enjoy. It came during yet another car ride with my "roomie," our last one together as single buddies.
In this ride, somehow we happened upon the subject of marriage. (Maybe it had something to do with her getting married in the morning...) And as we talked, I became so delightedly happy and peaceful, for I saw (again) that here were two people who recognized the sanctity of marriage. The joy and giddiness, as with any engaged-almost-married couple, is still there, but underneath it is a foundation that promises a delightful, God-honoring future. They both recognize that the wedding, despite all the glitz, decoration, dress and tux, isn't really about them. It's about displaying the sanctity of a relationship that God created second only to our relationship with Him. And as my dear "Roomie" discussed this, mourning the loss of purity and honor in our world, and delighting in the opportunity presented to her and Jeremy, I delighted with them.
Blessings, "Roomie"!
May the beautiful sunrise, at the dawn of your wedding, be a promise of the beauty your marriage will portray to the world.
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