I’m not much of a dancer. Never have been, never will be and I’m pretty much
okay with that. About the only time I
get a chance to dance is at weddings.
Yesterday had the privilege of officiating (what a terrible verb) the wedding of my friend Tanner. Tanner was a teenager in my congregation. We’ve moved since then – we’ve been gone for seven years, but Tanner called me and asked if I would come back to marry him and his fiancé. I was honored that he asked. (It means, of course, that I’m old… but never mind that.) The wedding ceremony was wonderful. Tanner looked nervous. The bride looked beautiful. People cried. It was pretty much everything a wedding ceremony should be.
Yesterday had the privilege of officiating (what a terrible verb) the wedding of my friend Tanner. Tanner was a teenager in my congregation. We’ve moved since then – we’ve been gone for seven years, but Tanner called me and asked if I would come back to marry him and his fiancé. I was honored that he asked. (It means, of course, that I’m old… but never mind that.) The wedding ceremony was wonderful. Tanner looked nervous. The bride looked beautiful. People cried. It was pretty much everything a wedding ceremony should be.
And at the reception afterwards I had my chance to dance.I danced with my wife to Eric Clapton’s song Wonderful Tonight. My daughter rolled her eyes and refused to dance with me.
And Tanner’s younger sister gave me a giant hug and shouted over the music, “You taught me to dance.” That was, of course, at a wedding several years ago.
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