My best friends, Jackie and Seth (see meet the CampAndersons), got married this weekend. It was a beautiful ceremony (will post pictures as soon as they are available) on a Glorious Day.
It started with an 8:30 am call from the bride to meet for coffee at the cafe in the hotel lobby where we were staying. We (Jackie, our friend Sarah, the mother mother of the groom, Pat, the wedding planner, Stefanie, and me) sat and talked about the day ahead and the rehearsal dinner the night before. Then Jackie mentioned having a "nervous knot in her stomach." I knew, from earlier conversations that this was code for "I'm really sad and missing my Mom and Dad."
For those of you who don't know this already, Jackie lost her mother about 3 years ago to a freak infection and her father died a month ago from pneumonia subsequent to a two year battle with lung cancer.
So anyway, earlier that morning I heard God tell me to take Jackie for a walk on the beach to talk to her parents. I knew then, that now was the time to act. So I announced to the table that I would like to take Jackie on a walk for 30 minutes and then the wedding chaos could commence. Then, we left for a walk.
Let me tell you, the first part of that conversation felt very forced. Like I was trying to rewrite the script from a hallmark movie to fit the day. Everything felt stilted and inauthentic. There were moments where I thought to myself, "You sound like an idiot and should stop talking." But I knew I was getting at something real for Jackie, because she began to weep and talk about how hard it was to experience the day without her folks. And I took some comfort in the idea that Jackie was at least letting out emotions she was bottling up inside.
I could've been satisfied with that. I was satisfied with that. But another, small and gentle voice spoke to my soul. It asked me to challenge some of the things Jackie was saying. To challenge her to acknowledge her unspoken faith. To challenge her to risk asking something of God.
Ok - "Woa, Woa, Woa." I say to the voice. "This is a huge challenge. This is her wedding day, she's nervous enough as it is and you want me to ask her to put that all on the line - to take down her shield and admit that she needs you to do something here. What if you don't do anything? What if you don't show up? She'll loose not just her faith but her wedding day will be remembered as the day you failed her."
Miraculously, this is not what came out of my mouth. What came out of my mouth was the this gentle and certain challenge. "Jackie, ask what you want. Take down your sheild. You can't do this on your own. Here I'll pray with you."
Who is this! I am thinking to myself. But I go on, and Jackie comes with me, and we pray.
We prayed together for an obvious, undeniable sign from God that Jackie was not alone today. That she she could confidently take down her sheild and let God in. We prayed that she could actually experience joy on her wedding day in the midst of her grief.
I think we walked off that beach both feeling a a little anxious, a little doubtful and a little hopeful.
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