It was a breezy spring day in New Mexico. The sun was strong and warm as it fell on my black sports coat. I was holding my leather-bound Bible and reading Ephesians as I paced up and down a flagstone path.
“Look carefully then how you walk, not as unwise but as wise, making the best use of the time, because the days are evil,” I said, to no one in particular.
I was in a secret garden, or at least that’s what it looked like. Dark green grass stretched out in front of a raised flagstone platform. A wooden gazebo had been erected over the platform and it was overgrown with giant blooming wisterias. The whole place smelled like honeysuckle and the breeze made white and purple petals flutter whimsically to the ground.
It was a fine place for a wedding.
I knew this fact because when I worked as a caterer and a chef’s assistant, I went to at least one wedding a month. I’d been to all kinds of weddings: house weddings, church weddings, outdoor weddings, dry weddings, drinks for everyone weddings, even a wedding that had to be put on pause while the father of the bride went and convinced his daughter that she still wanted to get married. It that wasn’t enough, I had also briefly worked as a photo booth operator, and, you guessed it more weddings. It was safe to say that I wasn’t a spring chicken when it came to the whole tuxedo and white dress party.
But, this one was different. This wedding was for one of my oldest friends, and on top of that, I was officiating this one….
Read the rest at: benjamenthornberg.com/marriage