Wedding Frenzy

           I see the wedding boards on Pinterest and the wedding magazines in the bedrooms of girls who have never been in a serious relationship. I remember girlhood dress rehearsals. I hear young women lament their singleness and others expound their frustrations of their boyfriend’s dragged feet and future brides exasperated by the endless details and work to be done. I see the joy and passion continue long after they’ve had their own day. I know my own heart. Its intensity seems to vary from simple longing to back of the mind planning to outright obsession, but I have yet to meet a woman who does not derive at least some pleasure from weddings. So we imagine and long and plan and stress and forget and rejoice.
            
             And the Savior waits, and smiles.

             While we become enthralled by dresses and colors, flowers and centerpieces, favors and food, the Savior’s heart is swelling with incomparable anticipation, a giddiness that cannot be rivaled or contained, because the Bridegroom is waiting for His Wedding Day, His Marriage Supper of the Lamb.

             I have been frustrated with women’s obsessions with weddings at times- the planning before engagement, the seemingly loss of focus on meaning, the triviality of it all. If I were being honest, though, this is merely a projection of my self-frustration. I had always been content in my singleness and even felt “called to singleness” at one point, and yet I still loved weddings. Were my current relationship to end, while it would bring me pain and disappointment, I know that I could once again be content in my singleness, and still I know that I would look at all things weddings every now and again. I would still love weddings.

             Our love of weddings is not a “girl thing” and while it can be an idolatrous thing, a trivial thing or a missed opportunity of depth and responsibility, weddings are, without a doubt, a God thing. Our hearts are eternally hardwired to delight in weddings, to find great joy in them. When our hearts grow faint at the beauty, when we tear at the love, and eagerly wait for our moment, and when it does come hold tightly to it for as long as we can, this is your Savior’s way of giving you the slightest glimpse of the excitement growing inside of His own heart as He awaits His own Wedding.
            
              So if your earthly wedding should never come or takes longer than you expected, or when it does come budget or circumstances keep it from being the day you imagined, remember, Beloved, that an earthly wedding, no matter how grand, is merely an illustration of, an opportunity to whet your appetite for, the greatest wedding that time will ever know- a wedding that you have not just been invited to attend, but to stand on the altar of unimaginable gloriousness and redemption displayed. Weddings can be a very Godly thing. Marriages are preciously important. At the end of it all, though, they are merely illustrations. Let us not allow the beauty of the illustrations to eclipse the glory of the eternal wonder they mercifully allow us a glimpse of. Beloved, let’s not allow the preparations for the trial run to inhibit or overshadow the preparations that we were made for, chosen for, the day we truly wait for.

            Your Bridegroom is waiting with unbridled expectation and sooner than you know He will come from the hills and draw you close, whisper in your ear that the time has come. The processional will start, the beauty will be blinding, the tears will be ever flowing, and it will all crescendo into a display of compelling marvelousness of an eternally unbreakable union. And that is a day to hope for indeed.

And Still the Bird Sang

Today has been a rough one. Emotionally, about a million things seem to have compounded at once. Physically, my pain has increased after a period of gradual recovery leading to emotional consequences that far outweigh the physical- feelings of fear, uncertainty, and frustration. The day had been one that had knocked me to my knees, crying out to God. But the day was not over and I then received news that will dramatically change my life, threatening even the vaguest sense of security I have now.

My day had turn into the darkest of nights.
As I’ve struggled through this night, pushing through the intense pain that evening ushers in on even my best day and wounded from the day’s assaults, sleep has come sporadically.

And then there was the bird.

This bird and I have a bit of a history. Being morning person, I love the sound of birds chirping to usher in the new day. I am also aware that this chirping begins usually around five in the morning. This bird, however, sings very loudly in the deep of the night, waking me on more than one occasion. On this night, when my soul feels heavy and my body reeling, sleep seems so inviting, offering a small but sweet taste of relief. This bird’s primary objective, it seemed to me, was to keep me from finding that temporary comfort.
In desperation, I pondered the thousands of ways I could…silence the bird. When I regained some sanity and reconciled that doing such a thing might be a bit over the top, or at the very least impractical, I then deliriously begged God to shut the bird up.

And still the bird sang.

Only now the bird was not the loudest voice in the night.
When morning comes, with newness and mercy that only it can bring, praise comes easy. My heart sings when midnight’s tears are dried and hope seems tangible once more. When praise is offered in the times I deem it deserved, the praise is no less well received.

When praise is offered in the times I am waiting for deliverance, I dare say, God is glorified more. Not only because this praise is trust-assurance in the sovereignty of the King of Kings. Not only because this praise is gladness simply in the grace of God-attesting that this is more than enough and more than I deserve. And not only because it shows where my hope is found-a testimony to the sufficiency of God. No, it is not only for these reasons, though they would be enough.

When I sing in the darkest of night, my heart becomes more like His. In praising Him when even the faintest light is far on the horizon, I am purging myself and ushering Him in. No longer do I rest in my own abilities, my own providence, any sense of self-pity or perceived goodness. Instead my God is God and I, the humble recipient of His grace. It’s in these moments when I am assured that He is the prize, not any earthly gain or security. Just to be in His presence, let alone be called His own, is worthy of songs of the loudest praise.

There is but one reason I can sing in the darkest of nights, and that is because my greatest triumph, and history’s greatest victory, was won on the very darkest night. Christ hung on the cross that night, beaten and unjustly convicted by the ones He would go to no ends to pursue, bleeding and bruised, mocked and seemingly abandoned. He drew His last breath and all hope was lost that night. The heavens wept, the earth moaned in anguish. And yet, victory was assuredly on His way. He knew, but they did not and I cannot imagine a night any darker than that one.

After a few more unbearable nights, the stone was rolled away and behold the suffering was not in vain! Christ was prophetically and triumphantly risen! A glorious day ushered in after an unimaginably mournful night.

I sing now the praises of my Victor in the depth of both my metaphorical and literal night, taking a cue from the bird that wasn’t aware night isn’t the time for songs. I will praise loudly and without restraint, because while deliverance from that which weighs my heart tonight may come tomorrow or years from now, I know that my greatest deliverance will come as I meet my Savior face to face. On that day, the praise and joy will be unstoppable and untiring and the hope I have for that day warrants equal response here in my darkest of nights.