The Sacrament of Marriage and the Grace of God

The vision of beauty was surreal. As I stepped from the foyer through the glass double doors and underneath the Roman pillared arches, I could tell that this day was going to be special. Of course, it was not as if I was ignorant of that when I was getting dressed for the occasion. Any wedding ceremony is a sacramental gift from God. But there was something different about this day. Just three days earlier Natalie and I sat with Katie in the living room of the Kirkpatrick house in Metamora. She was heavily sedated with morphine to ease her pain and had just undergone an extensive and draining protein procedure designed to help relieve some of the pressure from the swelling in her lower abdomen area due to the fluid build up in her lungs. But now, I was entering the sanctuary that was elegantly decorated for her wedding day.

The ceremony itself was a gift of grace. It is impossible to describe the beauty of watching a father, who just two months earlier had a malignant brain tumor removed from his left frontal lobe, slowly and methodically walk his daughter, who is now in what could be the final stages of her second battle with cancer, down the aisle to her groom. After removing the oxygen breathing tube, rising from the wheelchair, and walking down the long center aisle, Katie needed a short break, so she sat with Nick on the little benches that were awaiting them in front of the congregation. Her brother-in-law scrambled to get her a little more O2, then she was fine and the fairytale service continued.

From there, the grace only flowed more freely, as the God who comes in the midst of the clouds of pain and suffering poured his presence out amongst these people gathered to celebrate the mystery of marriage. The day was truly sacramental, for the grace came to us all, flowing like water in a rushing stream. At the reception, Katie gathered the strength to dance with first dance with her groom. It was far from any waltz or tango. The two moved slowly back and forth to the rhythm of a music that transcended anything the deejay could have picked to play. Most of the time Nick was doing all of the work, supporting his radiant, though feeble bride and holding her up as he drew her close to his own body. At times her head would rest delicately on her shoulder. At others their foreheads would press against one another with a gentle kiss of the soul. It was grace. It was all grace.

Later, Katie regained her strength and stepped on the dance floor again. This time it was with her father. The gracefulness of Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers was nowhere to be found, but the grace of our Father overflowed the dance floor and filled the entire hall. They struggled to step and sway together the way only a father and daughter could do. They danced to the smiles and tears of those who felt the presence of God step into the room and cover them both with his grace and support them, hold them, and guide their steps in his hands.

It was a day that was pure grace to witness. I will be forever changed.

http://www.mlive.com/news/fljournal/index.ssf?/base/news-26/110588163189641.xml

http://www.detnews.com/2005/lifestyle/0501/14/D01-59455.htm

http://www.mlive.com/fljournal/frontpage/pdfs/M_sunday.pdf