Google+ Followers

Sunday, June 24, 2012

Happily Ever After Together

Using the mountains as a back drop, and with everyone wearing shoes (although not high heels), the wedding began. The Bride was escorted by her father through freestanding doors, down a grassy isle lined with weathered pews.  My son waited for his Bride with his eyes brimming with tears.  Even though this was the ministers (also a friend), first wedding, it was a beautiful ceremony.
One of the most touching things about the ceremony was, after the vows were said and "I Do's" given, when the minister usually prays over the couple, instead he asked all of the wedding party to circle the couple and lay hands on them in prayer. It was precious.
The reception was equally as precious. After a wonderful meal of lasagna, made by the Bride's aunt, my son grabbed his accustic guitar and sang a song he had written for his Bride. After his song, three of his friends sang a few songs.  This was so special because that's what they do... Instead of watching TV or playing video games (and when they aren't setting each others arm pits on fire), they sit around and sing.  When my son lived at home, he would sit in the kitchen with his guitar and quietly pick and talk to me while I cooked dinner.  They are a talented group and I never tire of hearing them sing.

Towards the end of the reception, my son gave a toast to his Bride, then he opened up the floor to anyone who wanted to give a toast. One by one, family and friends stood to tell their story, share a memory or give a blessing. It was like an old fashioned testimony service except less churchie. The reception ended as the mountain air began to cool the meadow. They made their way up the hill, through a tunnel created by those who love them, to begin their happily ever after together. From the beginning of the ceremony to the end of the reception, the wedding was a perfect representation of each of their personalities.  May their lives together be unique as the ceremony that joined them as one.







No comments:

Post a Comment