Beautifully said. All of it.
The fun-loving Wyatts cutting their cakes. Be sure to take a look at the Groom’s Cake - the “Beard Cake” made by Liz Harrison. The Bride’s cake, a “Flower Cake” made by Murph Holder, is harder to distinguish in this photo but also worth seeing. Photo courtesy of Jessica Fasnacht.
The Wyatt Wedding: June 19, 2011.
The Wyatt Wedding: June 19, 2011.
There was concern at one point in the week for rain and thunderstorms but, of course, they never crashed the party. Honestly, it was too good of a party to ruin. Even if these hooligans had arrived with all their melancholy gloom and pessimism, I am certain that they would have changed their disposition and joined in the laughter, meaning, joy, dancing, and feasting that crowded the evening hours of last Saturday.
The ceremony was Beautiful. Beautiful beyond what the word is commonly used to describe. Visually, the wedding party – in this case, witnesses – were dressed nice (albeit shoeless) and the ornate old church with her stained glass lit by June’s sun. The Groom stood handsomely in his favorite earth tones, tears shimmering in his eyes. The Bride outshone all the millions of this great city as she radiated grace. I, for one, thought that she had a fairy dust glow about her. Angela was stunning.
But the Beauty of this wedding ceremony was deeper and more transcendent than these normal traits. The traditional bridesmaids or groomsmen dressed in matching costumes were replaced by prayerfully chosen witnesses: married couples or single people of important meaning to this marriage relationship, asked to pledge life-long commitment to seeing the Wyatts flourish. Important meaning. These two words sincerely describe every aspect of the night. The children of Apostles Church, beloved by their children’s ministry leader Angela and Bryson both, all charged down the center aisle in a dead sprint to give the Groom a massive hug before the Bride entered. The whole congregation attending was told that shoes were optional because of Angela’s own feelings toward God having Moses remove his sandals while standing in his presence. Our pastor, JR, was heavy with heartfelt emotion as he reflected on Angela’s journey in Jesus and the story now unfolding between she and Bryson.
Beyond all else, the gospel was on display. The Groom’s role as exemplifying Christ’s love, laying down his life for us, was emphasized. We all, with Angela, were reminded of how blessed we are to be called his dearest Brides. Songs were sung celebrating Jesus and thanking him for the costly grace he poured out on us. Our hearts were moved. The Spirit’s presence was felt. Beauty was not just seen but experienced. Beauty from beyond the borders of this wounded world.
I think I will forever equate the dusk of summer to that splendid garden atmosphere during the wedding reception. Broad, young Brooklyn leaves sheltered a collision of colors, people, stories, voices, songs, and vittles. Tables overflowed with wildflowers, quiet conversations, and loud guffaws. Hotdogs were cooked on the grill as children wore themselves out in the summer grass. Cold drinks in ball jars and frozen fruit defeated the final hours of daylight’s heat just as the dancing truly ensued. Cameras flashed and the guests cut loose or, rather, cut up. As Angela would have it, magic was in the air. Cakes were sliced, the father danced proudly with his cherished Bride, and, before too long, the Wyatts were off. This most wonderful of days had come to its end.
That’s the way all weddings should be.
My best friend, as much a brother as my own flesh and blood, is now married to the most amazing of brides (and a dear friend). This is an extraordinary thing. So honored to have been part of such a wonderful event, permeated by the love of Christ. Here’s to you, Wyatts. Love you two.
The Beautiful Wedding Ceremony. Photo courtesy of Cindy Brittain.
Great to get a few days in the city with the college roommates of 511 Old Jersey. Photo courtesy of Katelyn Taylor.
A much appreciated shot with the newly married Wyatts and one beautiful Ms. Megan Rose Hitz. Photo courtesy of Cindy Brittain.
The men of 511 Old Jersey are getting old. Or else we really haven’t changed at all. Photo courtesy of Paige Langford.