Tomorrow afternoon, John's nephew will stand at another altar, exchanging vows with the woman that he loves. The vows, I suspect, will be similar to those that the prince and princess took today, and those that John and I made almost nine years ago. Again, I'm sure I'll think back to our own wedding, as I did early this morning.
But I won't be thinking of my white dress, or the fight John had with the veil when the pastor said, "You may now kiss the bride." My pastor from California gave me away, and later spoke some words encouraging and exhorting us (injecting his characteristic humor), but he won't be on my mind either. Not even the look of joy on John's face, as precious as that sight was.
The vows gripped me that day, as I sensed my accountability to the Lord. He was taking them seriously, reminding me that one day I'll answer to Him for how I've lived them out. Amid the flowers and music and chatty flower girl who regarded the event as "her" wedding, the seriousness of my vows--our vows--caused me to giggle nervously under their weight.
That healthy fear of God came back today, as Cate made the promises to William that I made to my own prince nine years ago. I expect I'll feel it tomorrow also, as our nephew's bride makes them. And I'll be thankful for this reminder:
is not by any to be entered into unadvisedly
but reverently, discreetly, advisedly, soberly,
and in the fear of God.