Royal Wedding

We have a new princess.  She and her prince born husband have new royal titles.  Their wedding was spectacular.  They have the world at their disposal.  It’s the wedding of the year.

The wedding was paid for by the royal family.  No expense was spared.  Beautiful flowers.  2 designer gowns.  A borrowed tiara.  Military uniform.  Molded gold rings.  Wedding feast.  Rolls Royce chauffeur.  A blue Jaguar.  Celebrity guest list.

Oh.  There were complications.  Paparazzi.  Stories of half-siblings wanting more attention than they deserved.  Uncertainty swirling around the father of the bride.  American actress.  Biracial marriage.  Previous divorce.

She gave up her career.  She left her home country.  She took his name.  She accepted his ring.  Diamonds from his mother’s collection.  She became his.  And he is hers.  She moved from a common life to become royalty.  All because of love.

Stand by me.  This little light of mine.  Ave Maria.  Beautiful music that covered different backgrounds and beliefs.  The sermon spoke of committed lifelong love.

Oh.  I have been a bride.  Dressed in white.  On the arm of my father.  Bouquet in hand.  Veil covered face.  I walked down the aisle to my beloved.  I said the vows.  I wore the ring.  I shared the kiss.

I pledged my love.  My faithfulness.  My life.  To him.  For better.  For worse.  For richer.  For poorer.  In sickness.  In health.  For as long as we both shall live.  Till death us do part.

He stood there waiting for me.  Waiting to take the hand of the woman who said yes to his request to be his wife.  I gladly accepted the proposal.  I happily placed my hand in his.  I am his and he is mine.


I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine.  Song of Solomon  6:3


I think of another wedding.  Oh.  It will be royal.  One of epic proportion.  I will again be the bride.  My bridegroom is waiting for me.  I know he loves me.  He’s given life to me.  He’s sacrificed for me.

He is the lover of my soul.  Oh.  He has wooed me.  He works for me.  But he paid the price for my sins.  He gave his life for me.  So I could be his bride.  That was his purpose.  He chose me.  He wants me as his own.

I’ve accepted his proposal.  We are betrothed.  I want to share his name.  I choose to be his bride.  For eternity.  Oh.  I’ve let him down.  I’ve failed him.  I don’t always live up to his standards.  But he still chooses me.  He keeps calling me to come closer.

My bridegroom has a name.  He is Jesus Christ. We will have a magnificent wedding feast.  He will sit at the right hand of his father.  He will welcome me home.

Oh.  I won’t be the only bride at this wedding.  There will be many brides.  Anyone who has accepted his proposal will be called bride.  You see.  At this wedding, the focus will be on the bridegroom.  Not on the bride.  The bridegroom asks for the hand of each of us.  We must accept or be left out.  He wants us as his very own.  He’s chosen us.  We’re handpicked for royalty.

What Brings Me to Tears

There are certain events and experiences that bring me to tears.  Events that make me proud.  Actions that show respect to power and authority.  Experiences that are personal and meaningful.

I think of a bride.  Walking down the aisle on her father’s arm.  See the white dress.  The bouquet.  The veil.  The vows.  The kiss.  The anticipation of a life together.   The respect of the sanctity of marriage.  My eyes well up with tears.

I hear the national anthem.  The Star Spangled Banner.  I see the flag rise above the crowd.  People stand.  Right hand over their heart.  Pride in our country.  Thankful for freedom.  Respect for the courage of battles fought.   My eyes well up with tears.

I have served on jury duty.  I have been a juror.  People in the court room stand each time the jurors enter and exit the court room.  All conversations and activities cease.  All eyes are on the jury.  The group of twelve who will decide someone’s fate.   They know the power of this group.  They respect the sacrifice the jury is making to perform their civic duty.  The weight of the decision is in their hands.  My eyes well up with tears.

I have driven in a funeral procession.  Loss of a loved one.  Near and dear to my heart. People standing along the street.  They stop and pay respect.  Remove their hats.  Stop mowing their lawn.  Stand still for someone they’ve never met.  Traffic stops and lets the stream of cars interrupt their busy day.  They respect the loss of a loved one.  My eyes well up with tears.

I think of the man who died on the cross.  For me.  For you.  I think of his sacrifice.  He died willingly.  To save every sin everyone born on this earth has ever committed.  So we can enter heaven’s gates. So we can see Him face to face.  His mercy is new every day.  His love and compassion are never ending.  His sacrifice is our eternity.  My eyes well up with tears.

In Christ Alone.