We’re celebrating a wedding this weekend. I’ve traveled, and others have traveled, and here we are. Last night my face ached with smiling; my eyes had been full of tears more than once.
I’ve known the bride more than eight years, shared a room with her for three. We wrote a poem in the first year of our acquaintance, lamenting the lack of readily-available husbands visible on our college campus.
And now, at last, she’s getting married.
I listen to the families talk, look at her face, at her groom’s face, hear the joy in the voices, and practice to play joyous music on the piano for the ceremony. Mercy.
Marriage is a picture. It’s meant to show us things, to help us understand, just a bit, of the love of God. He makes it beautiful.
In view of His mercies we are urged to present ourselves as living sacrifices to Him, and being a sacrifice is often painful, but seeing the mercies is so sweet.
And somehow He weaves the mercies and the pains — the greatest mercy was the greatest sacrifice — and we are obliged to celebrate most these moments of giving self away. Because that’s what we’re made for.
Because He makes it beautiful.
Joining the Five Minute Friday party with Lisa-Jo and friends today. Join in, or read more posts, using the button above.