And I will gladly share with you your pain,
If it turn out I can no comfort bring;
For tis a friend’s right, please let me explain,
To share in woeful as in joyful things.
~ Geoffrey Chaucer
A young friend of mine (a former student) was married on Saturday. Loree’s wedding to Andrew was simply splendid.
It began with multiple groups of grandparents processing down the aisle to Moonlight Sonata. Exquisite music. I immediately thought, “Why have I never played this for a wedding before?” When we thanked the pianist after the ceremony, Summer said “I told Loree that I regretted getting married without a bit of Debussy.”
The kiss: what I loved is the look Andrew gave Loree–a full thirty seconds I’d guess–drinking in her smile before the kiss. We got the sense that this remarkable young man is deliberate in all he does.
The knot: the two fathers brought up a large coil of nautical-grade rope. The bride and groom took these two ropes and made a lover’s knot.
After the bride and groom tied the knot the wedding party all tugged on the rope to tighten the knot. It was festive and fun!
A favorite moment was meeting Andrew at the end of the receiving line. Smiling, he extended his hand and was genuinely pleased to meet Curt and me. But when Loree leaned into him and said, “She wrote the words,” Andrew changed into hug mode. Of course the words are not my words, but a quote I wrote in a card.
Here are the words.
~ St. Augustine
The arts–dancing, acting, painting, sculpting, photography–make sense
because part of their purpose is to delight.
Writing, yes.
Gardening, sure.
Loving (blush).
Then we get into areas that, perhaps, don’t have delight as their first goal.
Teaching. It can be delightful. If it’s *not* delightful, is it effective?
Accounting?
A stretch, you say?
But the principle fits, doesn’t it? Or does it?
What delights you today?
Ouch!
I need this reminder.
It helps me to consider that the base, ruptum,
means to break, shatter or burst open.
It gives us the words rupture, abrupt, corrupt and eruption.
I am always impressed – favorably – by friends, people who love and cherish books but are able to let go of them with such grace and little angst. I keep telling myself that I should be combing through my shelves regularly, systematically. But it goes in spurts, and I keep receiving more than I cull. But they are really good books, ones I will love, I’m sure!
*If only proper names could be used in Scrabble! We know a couple, Zane and Quinn, whose names could win you a Scrabble game.
~ Walter Trobisch in I Married You
~ Tolstoy in War and Peace
quoted by M.F.K. Fisher in How to Cook a Wolf
Also a prayer for our young friend Isaiah, who remains in a coma. It is a great reminder that we used to be dead in our sins and God has made us alive in Him.
God made this world chock full of pictures–symbols–of death and resurrection. The more we look, the more we see. Help me add to the list.
Her teeth elbowed each other
for room in her mouth…
(a shopkeeper)
~ Markus Zusak in The Book Thief
I’m only a third of the way through listening to this novel narrated by Death about a girl named Liesel Meminger living in Nazi Germany. Death as the narrator sounds very creepy, but in fact it is incredibly clever. When I review it, qualifiers (caveats) will rain down like paratroopers on D Day.
But this much I can say:
I haven’t read writing so crisp and crackly since William Griffin’s translation of The Imitation of Christ
A Living Pencil 