Good morning to each of you on this rainy summer day.

     It seems that everybody is getting married.  I have six weddings on my calendar and I’ve turned down four!  One of the things I am noticing about the couples I am marrying this summer and fall is that most of them are first time marriages for both the bride and groom.  In the past, the vast majority of weddings I performed were with couples who at least one of them had been married before.  Very often it was a not only a joining of husband and wife, but a blending of families.

     There was something about the couple I married last weekend that revealed the best of why two people take that huge leap of faith and say “I do.”  The groom, dressed to the nines in his tux, surrounded by his equally handsome groomsmen, appeared as cool as a cucumber; he seemed confident - in a good way - and excited.  Waiting for the wedding to begin, he walked (not paced!) around the sanctuary, greeting family and friends.  He was definitely enjoying the moment.  Just before the stroke of the hour, I stepped into the church diningroom where the bride, a giddy entourage of satin-clad females, and her adoring father were “hidden away.”   No amount of white taffeta could cover up that she was a knee-knocking, voice-trembling nervous wreck.  I reassured her that once the ceremony got into full swing she would be fine and the nerves would subside… which turned out *not* to be the case.  Walking down the isle to Pachelbel’s Canon in D Major, she held onto her father’s arm for dear life.  Beads of sweat broke out on her face during my retelling of the miracle story of the wedding at Cana - the only miracle she hoped for in this moment was to get through all this.  Tears welled up and flowed as she said her vows.  Just before the exchange of rings, I heard and saw something most precious.  She looked at her groom and whispered weakly, “I’m sorry.”  He squeezed her hands and said, “You’re doing fine.”  The next thing I knew, the two of them were walking down the isle, arm in arm.

     I’ve thought about this couple a number of times these past few days.  From the first time I met with them I had the sense that this couple seemed to have what it would take to stand the test of time.  If they can just remember to say “I’m sorry” …  if they can encourage and reassure each other … if they can hold onto each other “in times of plenty and in times of want, in times of sickness and in times of health, in times of joy and in times of sorrow, in times of failure and in times of triumph” …  I believe they’ll be able to “live happily ever after.”

     Last Sunday in worship during the sharing of joys and concerns Lora announced that she and David were celebrating their 19th wedding
anniversary, and Dale and Judy shared that they were celebrating 46 years of “marital bliss.”  And that afternoon many of us went to the party for Emily and Paul’s *70th* wedding anniversary (and Paul’s 100th birthday).  In a day and age when the divorce rate is at about 50%, these marriages are signs of hope - they remind us that it *can* be done.

     In our relationships - heck, in life in general - wouldn’t this be a different world if we remembered to say the occasional “I’m sorry;” if we
offered reassurance and encourage-ment to those who were struggling to get through an anxious time; if we learned to walk arm and arm in step with one another.  Wouldn’t this be a different world if we learned to keep the promises we make!



Blessings,

Marcia