12/28/2018 0 Comments The BrideWho doesn’t love weddings?
On September 16th 2011 my middle daughter, Caren, was married. What an awesome day it was. Words can't describe the joy that radiated from her countenance as she walked up the aisle in her bridal gown. It was enough to make a mother cry. Caren has endured more than her share of scars, yet she freely shares her testimony with those who desire to hear. It is one of tragedy and triumph; battles fought, wars won, casualties and victories... So, it was that on her special day, she took a break in the war to celebrate, not the beginning of perfect bliss, but the foretaste of something yet to come. And I couldn't help but compare the glory of her wedding to the glory of another or the beauty of this bride to the splendor of the Bride to be. As this New Year begins, I lift my glass to all the brides who are anticipating a new beginning as they join their hearts in matrimony; two becoming one. But especially, on this day, I honor His Bride. Christ’s Beloved Church. You… believer and intimate friend of God. As you continue to prepare yourself for that great and glorious day, I proclaim this jubilant declaration over the year to come, "L'Chayyim... to Life!" The Bride Bodies dot the landscape Like mounds of broken clay Plumes of smoke rise gracefully Masking death's decay Soldiers weak and weary Search for shelter from the fight But the woman rises slowly And surveys the ravaged sight Her gaze is racked with pain Though hesitantly she stands Her garments torn and bloodied Are stained by wars demands Parched lips part in a whisper A silent, desperate cry As she looks to the horizon For the Son is in her eyes Faltering, stumbling, climbing She winds her way among the dead Her footprints bathed in tears She is strengthened with each tread Advancing, pressing forward Nothing slows her steady stride Her wedding day is dawning For the Son is in her eyes Nothing turns her attention Not the failures of the past Not the scent of other lovers Or death's impending blast Face fixed on her Beloved She moves boldly to His side Held captive by His beauty For the Son is in her eyes There they stand in perfect union Father, Spirit, Son and Bride As her blemished gown transforms Into purest, snowy white And all of time and space explode “To Life!” as they arise To celebrate this glorious dawn For the Son is in her eyes
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