All summer, people have asked, “I haven’t seen a new post in ages—did you quit blogging?”
No, dear readers, I haven’t stopped blogging. I just couldn’t find my computer under the reams of deco mesh, miles of glitter ribbon and wire, umpteen flowers and vases and beads, stacks of sparkly paper, cans of spray paint, bottles of glitter, and sequined table cloths and table runners.
You see, two weeks ago, my only daughter got married.
And I was her wedding decorator.
When my daughter got engaged last July, I rubbed my hands together and announced, “I’ll do all the decorations!” After all, I’m a creative sort, and with a little ingenuity and a lot of Pinterest scoping, I was certain I could custom make exactly what my daughter wanted for center pieces, table numbers, head table decorations, etc…
But before we decided on colors, we hit the bridal shops. At one, she tried on a champagne gown with rose gold embroidery.
“This is it!” My daughter twirled and beamed into the mirror. “This is my wedding dress.”
She was right. The dress was unique. Breathtaking. And my daughter looked gorgeous in it.
I hugged her and examined the dress. “We could decorate in champagne. Oh, and rose gold!” I was getting even more excited now. I love rose gold and couldn’t wait to see my daughter and her new husband surrounded by glittering rose gold decorations.
When my daughter decided that her bridesmaids should wear burgundy, we had her colors.
Champagne. Rose gold. Burgundy.
From October to May, I stuffed my storage space with box after box of champagne, rose gold, and burgundy decorating items. I fiddled with decorating ideas for the ceremony; table centerpieces; table numbers; head, cake, gift, and afterglow table decorations; bathroom decorations. In mid June, after my daughter’s bridal shower, I spent the next two-and-a-half months assembling the decorations, praying that my efforts would help make her wedding even lovelier.
But even with my decorations, for the wedding to be everything we’d dreamed it would be, we also needed to pray for a rain-free day.
Because the marriage ceremony and the first hour of the reception were outside.
I’d envisioned it a thousand times. Guests seated on pristine white chair and gawking at the gorgeous scenery around them. Then my daughter, escorted by my husband, would walk up the aisle between the bows I’d tied to each ceremony end chair, facing the center aisle. They were double bows—a large bow made of rose gold deco mesh overlaid with a smaller bow made of rose gold glitter ribbon. The ends brushed the ground, and in the center I’d placed a single flower. In the shining sun, they would sparkle with brilliance, their radiance second only to the beautiful young woman gliding past, champagne train trailing behind her, her smiling eyes focused on her breathless fiancé ahead.
She and her fiancé would then say their vows to each other while the sun’s reflection twinkled on the lake behind them. When the ceremony finished, the photographer would lead the wedding party through the grounds and take pictures while guests mingled on the manicured lawn and helped themselves to drinks from the outdoor bar and h’ours derves served by white-gloved waiters. After the photographer took a sunset picture of the new bride and groom, the indoor reception would begin.
I could plan beautiful decorations for my daughter’s wedding. But I couldn’t plan the weather.
That was God’s territory.
A mid-September day in Michigan could mean anything—excessive heat, freezing rain, biting wind, hair-curling humidity. At first, I prayed simply for a rain-free day. God, please, just a nice day, so my daughter can have that dream outdoor wedding. If you want it to be ninety-five degrees or thirty-five degrees, that’s okay. Just no rain, Lord. No rain.
Then it dawned on me.
What a wimpy prayer.
Our big God isn’t a wimpy God, so why was I praying like he was? Like He wasn’t capable of bestowing an all-around glorious day, or that His love for me was so shallow that I could only ask Him for the bare minimum instead of the desire of my heart? His word did say:
So let us come boldly to the throne of our gracious God. (Hebrews 4:16 NLT)
I didn’t want a thirty-five degree rain-free day or a ninety-five degree rain-free day. I wanted a soft, warm, gentle rain-free day. Not for selfish reasons, but for my family and guests and future son-in-law. And mostly for my daughter. I wanted my bows to shimmer for her pleasure as she took that once-in-a-lifetime walk up the aisle. I wanted her to be comfortable and happy, basking in the warmth of family and friends and the love shining from the eyes of the young man in front of her.
So I went boldly to the throne and prayed for a gorgeous day.
And guess what?
My prayer for my lovely daughter and her new husband,
May you have the confident assurance and trust in our mighty and loving God to always go boldly to his throne of grace. And may your marriage be like the weather He gave you on your wedding day—warm, soft, sweet, and free of rain, His face shining upon you like the sun.