My little sister’s wedding opened my eyes to love. To grace. To God. And then it taught me what I truly believe everyone ought to know about weddings:
The white dress is for you, too. Every day it is for you.
But so often, we only think the white is for someone else. For her. The white is only for her, we say. When really, the white was made for all of us. Or we think, another day. I will get it out another day. I day I feel more ____________. You get the picture.
One week ago, we took out Bailey’s white dress and laced it up her back. We all stared, holding our breath. It was perfect, really. The beauty of white, of the waiting, of the romance.
We are made for this stuff.
We are made to pause at the beauty of a girl in a white dress. Not because America loves weddings, but because God wrote the script for the most beautiful of all weddings. And then He put the script inside of us:
To long for the white.
But somewhere along the way, I forgot that the ultimate romance is for me. I stopped believing that the white dress is for me. I stopped remembering that I am the Bride
Instead, I step into ordinary clothes every morning when my dress is sitting away in a dark closet.
It’s radiance sitting on a hangar.
One week ago, my sister walked down a long aisle. There was a string quartet that ushered her guests into an idyllic chapel. There were beautiful girls that went before her. There was a cake and laughter at every table while a stone fireplace ignited the whole room with passion and love. There was music written just for the evening, there were toasts and cheers and tears. There were long hugs and goodbyes.
My sister will do the same as me. She left wearing her wedding dress, only to put it away. Tucked away in some plastic bag in order to protect it from keeping it dirty.
And I have a feeling that this is what the Church is doing
And we wonder why Christiandom is declining.
We are tucking away our white dress, afraid we might get it dirty.
We look at it.
We think it’s beautiful.
We talk about how lovely its details are.
We love it.
We fondly think about it.
But we have stopped wearing it.
So, we need a little re-route, don’t we? Church, we need to get the dress back out. Because every single day, the wedding is for us.
Tired mom of little babies.
Single girl, waiting for her man.
Contented woman, not needing romance.
The white dress is for you. The celebrating is for you.
Happy and satisfied wife.
Mom battling cancer in a hard and difficult world.
Drowning mom of toddlers.
Wounded woman with scars.
The passion and fine dress is for you. The ultimate romance is for you.
When God bound up the entire universe, He also bound up His heart toward yours. It is yours for the taking.
The white dress.
The fine wine.
The feast of good foods.
The feeling fully alive.
Church, if I could share one part of my heart that is so weighted on my heart it is this:
It is time that we get the dress back out.
Our world is broken and fallen apart. Our television screens are screaming it as politician after politician yell harsh and unruly words at each other. We keep looking to all the wrong places to see change, fulfillment, promise. Promise isn’t in the red, white and blue. Promise is in the gleaming white of the bride.
And you are the bride.
So, may I charge us with this:
Shake off the ordinary clothes and get out the dress.
Get rid of short words with one another and be filled with words of kindness and love.
Sing loud and clear, instead of whisper and shy away from the truth that sets us free.
Adorn yourself in His words of hope and love and grace.
Put flowers in your hair and look wide-eyed at our future because your groom holds the entire world in His hands.
Dance wild and free into the night because you are just that — wild and free.
Let’s fall in love again, Church. Because God wants to adorn you with His radiance. He wants to lace up the back of your white dress and place crowns of flowers on your head. He wants to dance ever so sweetly with us.
Your dress is doing no good in that old, musty box. Get it out and be the girl you were always meant to be. A gleaming, radiating bride
PS Want a sneak peek into the magic of my sister’s wedding. Go ahead, let your jaw drop and swoon.