Reflections from the Father-of-the-Bride

Journal-Review
September 10, 2011
By Pastor Gary Lewis
First United Methodist Church of Crawfordsville

God willing, by the time you read this column my only child – our daughter Sarah Jay – will have been married to Aaron Wesley Miller. The ceremony was scheduled for last night.

I guess I am using the word “scheduled” because there is a part of me that doesn’t want to let go. Sarah Jay met him early in her college career. Aaron, who is six years older than Sarah, has been very patient. I know he loves and adores her. I know I am so blessed to have a man of faith and integrity as a son-in-law. You can’t get much better than an Eagle Scout! I have had Friday, Sept. 9, 2011, circled in my heart for a long, long, time.

You would think a pastor with some 20 years of experience in performing wedding ceremonies would have loads of advice for his daughter about the meaning of marriage. After 27 years of marriage experience, you would think I would have something profound to say. Yet, it is the Gospel that comes to my mind. It all comes down to Jesus.

Jesus said, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: Love your neighbor as yourself.” (Matthew 22:37-38) In marriage, you have the privilege to do this together.

I have been thinking about what I would say to Sarah as she approaches the altar. I have chosen to be the “father of the bride” instead of clergy at Sarah’s wedding. I am so glad I made this decision. The pressure of wedding planning is a much heavier load than I imagined. I don’t know if I could have handled the logistics of presiding at the ceremony. My prayer is that I – and especially my wife – will be able to experience a peaceful, tender, night at our daughter’s wedding.

So, if you don’t mind dear reader, I am going to write in words what I probably won’t be able to say in person.

I am so proud of you Sarah. I have seen you take on an academic load that has taxed you severely. Yet, in your style, you have not blinked in the face of adversity. At the age of 24, you have kept your faith in Jesus Christ intact. We have drifted apart politically, but I know you have Jesus in your heart. A father cannot ask for any more than that.

I am proud of the way you have handled the pressure your mother has been under these past few weeks. I have seen you encourage her. I have seen you embrace her. I have seen you two laughing together and crying together. Even when tempers flared, you always managed to put it behind you.

I am proud of the way you treat others. I beamed when I heard all the reports about the way you handled yourself at the wedding shower our church so graciously hosted for you. My little girl is a wonderful young woman.

Do you remember all those jokes about preacher’s kids the laity would lay on you and me? Well, I wonder what they would say about you now. You are going to become a great wife because you know what it means to be a great friend.

I am so happy you have been able to fulfill so many of your dreams. You have traveled afar several times – sometimes for school and sometimes for pleasure. I marvel at your deep interest and enjoyment of Ireland. I am happy you did not cave in to my fear and my wanting to limit your wings that wanted to fly. Even though I felt abandoned at times, unable to figure out Skype, or keep in touch the way I wanted, you persevered.

I’ll never forget the unauthorized trip you took to Toronto. I can laugh about it now, but back then I wasn’t in a laughing mood. Perhaps you were right. Maybe you needed that trip more than you needed to attend those classes. You and I don’t like to give in, do we?

You told me once that when you were little you thought I was the smartest man in the world. Now that you know me better, you undoubtedly know that was never the truth. I will never forget those precious years watching you grow up.

I remember just waiting for the day when you could talk. I was fascinated to hear you speak and I remember fondly thinking about having a conversation with you. Still, today, I enjoy hearing your voice and talking to you about education, politics, faith, the church, the Cubs and the Colts.

I really am going to miss you. A friend gave me a better perspective about the reality that you will be living your life 1,000 miles away from me. She said you and Aaron will now have the opportunity to truly “leave and cleave.” It is right that you leave our home and it is right for you to cleave to your husband. You two will have to rely on each other more and more. I suppose that is one of the benefits about moving so far away to begin your new life together.

I know you are up for it! It is going to be more difficult than you ever imagined. Yet, day by day, you will begin to see the benefits of your new home. What seems so foreign will one day suddenly come into familiar focus. What you will be doing is building a life. And you will be leaning on God to get through it.

I was so thrilled when you told me about the churches you have already visited. So little time together at your new place and yet my girl took the time to worship the Lord in a new community not knowing a single person. Now that takes courage. The Lord will be able to use you and Aaron in so many exciting ways.

Friends have said to me “you are not losing a daughter; you are gaining a son.” I do finally understand this expression, although it took me awhile to get my head around it. We have shared many holidays and visits together with Aaron. It has been inspirational to see Aaron thrive in this tough job market. I watched him pick himself up off the floor and find a job in his field of study.

I close with a portion of a famous Irish blessing. May this blessing be true to all who read these words: “May the road rise to meet you. May the wind be always at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face. And rains fall soft upon your fields. And until we meet again, May God hold you in the hollow of His hand.”