This weekend the season begins.
For some it is the season of wearing white.
For some it is the season of swimming.
For me it is a season of marrying.
I could say weddings…
but I like to think it’s more active than that.
It’s so much more than one day.
So much more than one moment.
It’s the hundreds of little steps and choices
that lead to the I do.
It’s the thousands of little steps and choices
that follow.
All those steps and choices
bound up in a ceremony.
To hold so much in such few words
is sacred.

Today I have the privilege of seeing the promises
that a bride and groom will declare.
Written in solitude,
they have not been seen or heard by another soul
but the writer and me.
I hold them to my heart:
these Holy promises.
Holy promises carved out
of the journey traveled so far,
Holy promises to be future talismans
for days when the road is long
and the journey wearing.