Dreaming up Delights, Part Two

Dad and Houston, Pre-Ceremony.

[Part Two in a series of three posts celebrating the July 15 wedding of my dad, Rod Seiler, and Mercedes Garcia. You’ll find Part One here.]


Social Graces
It can be hard to know how to act when you’re five years old and attending your great-grandfather’s wedding–these fancy occasions seem to have mystical rules all their own–and isn’t it more confusing when the man who stood in robes and performed the ceremony is also the dear friend of longest standing in attendance, and so raises his glass to toast the happy couple?

One thing a very young man might do, in such a circumstance, is turn to his Lala for social guidance. 

“Hang on to the cup until after he is done speaking,” I coach, “then we’ll all drink together. Just like in church!” I add, inspired. 

Cadence.

“But Lala, I don’t have any bread!” 

“It’s okay,” I promise. “This isn’t communion, today.”  We’re not sharing in the memory of Christ’s sacrifice for us here. Nope. This is a wedding.

And my little grandson, who flubbed communion, just a little, the first time, eating his bread before the pastor had uttered the traditional words, well, he hangs on to that cup of sparkling apple juice. I hold my champagne high and when Houston is done honoring my dad and his bride, only then, Cadence and I, well, I wink and we drink together, conspiracy sparkling in our eyes.

Wedding Cake.

Later there is cake, of course. And I’m thinking about the toast, and a little boy who wondered why we had no bread, and a God who came to earth as a Man, to walk and breathe and live among us, and to show us, in His dying, what love is all about. 
I look at my dad and his new wife, each of them already the veteran of a marriage that went beyond the golden year before death did the parting. I watch them whirl on the dance floor, watch them gleam at one another, and I see, today, that young love is young, regardless of the age of the heart it fills.
My own heart kneels down inside, beats out a quick prayer as I see, finally, I see:

Whenever we gather to celebrate love, we share in the memory of Christ’s sacrifice. Love is His residue, His monogram on our hearts, His fingerprints on our souls.

 We love, because He first loved us.
1 John 4:19 (NASB)

I’m linking up with my friend Jennifer Lee today for God-Bumps and God-Incidences over at Getting Down with Jesus. You’ll come, won’t you?