She had always wanted to be a bride–to have a wedding day. But the dream seemed to be slipping away. She had been in the relationship for 10 years already, and two children were already part of the picture. Besides, he’d already “had a wedding” and wasn’t his “word” strong enough security? And  “weddings were overrated”. But in her mind, the dream was still there.

Something happened about 6 months ago. I think it was the gradual healing of the sting from a painful collapse of his first marriage. I think it was the realization that this “wife” was different from the first. She was gentle, and kind, and supportive, and loving. She was different. I think it was the realization that he truly “loved her” and wanted to make her truly happy.

So, he began to save his overtime money from his trucking job–never letting her know. In early summer he went out unbenownst to her and bought her a wedding ring. And in May, in his own rough style he popped by the question in asking her “do you wanna get married in August?”

As a result, there we were last Saturday. A trailer park wedding. Nestled amongst the 5th wheels, the tent trailers, the tow behind units…and pick up trucks. 50 friends and family members seated on lawn chairs right near the fire pit.

She shone.

He was surprisingly nervous. Two little children ran in and out of the group knowing the day was special but not truly understanding the significance. One wore a flowing princess summer dress with flowers in her hair. Another wore stiff blue jeans with a fully buttoned shirt and a bow tie clipped to his collar. It was fantastic.

I spoke to the couple but 50 witnesses listened intently. I spoke of how God shapes our lives, sometimes with finesse and sometimes painfully. And how God leads people together over a decade and into a day, and by His grace, into the future. I invited the couple to join hands and repeat some vows to each other. I prayed over them and God joined them together as husband and wife. And the people applauded.

Then we broke out the bbq’s, the burgers and dogs, and the “pop”. And we ate, and laughed, and danced and talked into the early evening (11 o’clock curfew at the campgrounds). One old uncle came to me and shook my hand and commented “I’m not religious, but I like the idea of God you have. It’s a little different from the God the preachers used to talk about when I went to church”. I just smiled.

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