Sparkler Sendoff

Chris Brady
Jul 28, 2017 · 7 min read

May We All . . . .

Terri and I paused ever so briefly to look around, trying to determine whom to speak to next. It struck me right then that a wedding is like Facebook in real life; a kaleidoscope of friends, family, and loved ones all in one place. And isn’t that phrase “friends, family, and loved ones” a peculiar one? After all, it is possible that some people are all three, some only two, and some merely one of those.

But I digress.

Terri and I saw that over there were the grandparents, next to them folks from the soccer team. At the next table were high school friends seated with some people from church. A table nearby featured neighbors, that one over there the uncles and aunts. People who had never met before, and weren’t likely to again, all jostled together under a tent to observe a present-tense verb, a wed-ding, the voluntary cleaving together of two different people into what the Bible calls “one flesh.” Beyond the obvious connotation, that term is (ah-hem) pregnant with meaning. As the pastor had said moments before in the service, “God has the patent on marriage.” And what an invention it is! Assaulted, belittled, in and out of favor throughout different epochs in history, and defined and redefined by society again and again, God’s concept lives on.

I’m not a betting man, but if I were, I’d put my money on two things:

1. Tom Brady and the New England Patriots (but that’s for another article), and

2. The fact that most marriage books are read by women, not men.

This latter point, I’m sure, makes it likely that not many men blog about marriage, either. I confess that, prior to this moment, I never have either. But while the celebration of my eldest son’s happy ceremony still glows warmly in my chest, I wonder if I may impose upon my (three) readers to do so with this week’s installment?

So, with your tacit permission, I’ll proceed . . .

Mean old Jezebel from the Bible, the one who tormented Elijah so, was, in the end, eaten by dogs. The text informs us that after these representatives of “Man’s best friend” finished their meal, only her hands and the bottom of her feet remained. It has been speculated that this was in some way a salute to the enthusiasm she showed in celebrating at wedding ceremonies (clapping fervently and stamping her feet); something taken seriously in ancient Jewish culture. Paraphrasing my friend Dr. Doug Bookman, it’s hard to determine how advantaged she was in this final detail, but the fact that anyone ever had the thought in connection to weddings shows how important it was to party hearty at matrimonial events.

That’s what we were doing — partying heartily, just like God’s people of old, carrying on a thousands-year-old tradition of celebrating the wedlock (lock?) of a new couple. We were glad-handing, back slapping, exchanging pleasantries, getting caught up with folks, all the while taking sideways glances at the happy couple as they worked the room and rode the wave of love that surrounded them. How wonderful. How richly “of God” is such joy.

Suddenly we were interrupted by someone telling us it was time to take our seats and get ready for the toasts. Gulp. That was my cue. I would go second, after the father of the bride, who nailed his heartfelt tribute in a classy way. Suddenly the mic was in my hand. People everywhere quiet, looking at me, waiting . . .

This should be a snap, I told myself.

After all, I’ve spoken publicly thousands of times. I’ve even spoken to junior high schools!

Breathe.

Think.

Oh yeah, I made some notes just in case this happened. So I fumbled around in my pocket, retrieving the sheet of paper from the note pad I keep next to my bed; a page I’d written just that morning. And I began. The only thing I remember saying for sure is how Casey’s mother and I have prayed for his some-day spouse. It was a short list, consisting of only three things:

1. That this future spouse would, above all else, love the Lord Jesus Christ with all her heart. As I’ve reminded my children time and again, if a person doesn’t love the Lord, he or she loves who instead? “Themselves,” they say in unison as they give the well-worn answer. “Who?” I have often asked again, driving home the point. “Themselves, dad, they love themselves.” To which I always add, “Because even if they profess to love you, if they don’t love the Lord first and foremost, their love for you is merely an expression of their own self love.” So here comes just about the only marriage advice I feel confident in offering: envision the bottom corners of a triangle, each representing a spouse. At the top is God. As each spouse grows in their love of God, they ascend the sides of the triangle and grow closer to each other at the same time. I stole this from somewhere, but have since made it my own. My kids have had little choice but to hear it again and again until, I hope, they have adopted it as well. Alas, but who knows how much of our sermonizing to our children actually sinks in (see my previous article for musings on this subject).

2. That this future spouse would love my son. I have such a wonderful memory of my own wife when she was still a college student. We were walking through the streets of Shadyside in Pittsburgh during a downpour, and she was so in love with me that she flitted out from underneath the umbrella, walked straight down the middle of the street, and twirled with happiness in the rain. It was that kind of love I wished also for my son; the spinning-in-the-rain kind.

3. That this future spouse would love her family. What I didn’t realize as a young man has come home to me now; a marriage is a knitting together of families. The cultures, mores, beliefs, and trajectories intersect in all sorts of unseen ways. This is not to say a person is defined by his or her family, or cannot rise above a bad situation or a family lacking in quality, but still, a warm, true family, sincerely loved by the daughter, was one of our deeply held hopes.

And so ends our prayer list. I realize that many people when they dream about their future mate assemble a list of attributes and qualities, many of which veer toward the selfish or the physical. But in this, our list for our son (and our other three children), we only had these three items, and as I (think) I told the gang there assembled that night, Casey’s bride knocked all three of these out of the park. All this, while showing us we could have had a much longer list, to boot, her personal qualities running on for days! How blessed we are, indeed.

And that’s why I started to cry, I think.

Me.

Who usually has no patience for blubbering speeches.

Who usually needs to pluck out a nose hair in order to summon any amount of emotion in a public setting.

Choked up.

Stopped in mid sentence.

Stammering like a big ol’ softy.

The full gravity of how God answers prayer had hit me all at once, embodied by this deliriously happy couple and two grateful Christian families.

Then, after what seemed mere minutes later, we were assembled in two lines down both sides of the curved driveway, in the dark, each holding long, sputtering sparklers high overhead. Casey and Morgan trotted through the fizzing arch of light, and at one point stopped to embrace in a romantic, no-kidding-around smooch. We went wild as they sped off into the night, into their life together, into the future.

Back inside the reception tent, one young lady of the bridal party, her pretty eyes aglow, asked, “What do we do now?” She had spoken what we were all feeling.

Did it really have to end?

Can’t we keep this going?

I don’t know what answer I gave her at the moment, but her question stayed with me into the night, throughout the cleanup, and during the chatty drive home with my own bride. And somewhere later, lying awake in bed, replaying the happy scenes in my mind, I found my answer.

What do we do now? Well, as for me, I think I’ll raise a figurative sparkler to God and His new couple, thanking Him for His goodness, and honoring His institution of marriage at weddings in the future by clapping my hands and stomping my feet like a crazy Jezebel.

And one more thing:

May we all be given a sparkler send-off into the remaining days of our marriages, and live our lives together in a romance worthy of a real celebration.

May we all . . . .

Congratulations Casey and Morgan!

(You can follow Chris on his Facebook fan page at Rascal Nation, and on Instagram as cbrascal).

Chris Brady

Written by

New York Times Bestselling Author, Inc. Mag's Top 50 Leader, CEO of Life Company, Speaker, Humorist, World Traveler, Soccer Fan, Father, Rascal!

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