PHOTO: Mary van Balen
The wedding stirred my emotional pot causing a variety of feelings to rise to the surface. Predictably, joy came first and remained dominant; how could it not in the face of the couples glorious happiness and love for each other? It spilled out of their eyes and faces, out of their gently touching hands, out of their smiles, and the rest of us, most seasoned veterans of the sacrament, soaked it up.
Hope filled my heart as well as I sat with the guests in rows of white folding chairs set up in the sun. The thought that the bride and groom are a good match pulled sadness along and “What ifs threatened to ruin the moment. With practice I am becoming more adept dismissing those spoilers, and that is what I did.
Blessings bestowed by the bride and groom’s fathers were filled with words like “commitment” and “faithfulness,” and “long tradition” that drove straight into my heart, reminding me that my marriage was in the process of being dissolved. Not that we hadn’t been faithful. We had. Or committed. We had been that, too.
We are being faithful, I told myself, faithful to who we are and where God is calling us now. It is not easy, being honest with ones self and with God. It can seem like lack of commitment to those looking on, but many who walk this path know differently.
I let go the grieving and sorrow and immersed myself in Love instead: Love who filled that happy space tucked into a maze of cornfields. Love shared through family and friends, old and new; Love who brought the young couple together and will walk with them through their lives; Love who is the main guest at celebrations like this, and who renews the spirits of all who allow themselves the Grace of being present to the moment.
© 2010 Mary van Balen
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