Miraculous Unity

I am sitting with three of my best friends, engaged in a conversation that we appear desperate to finish, yet we are not actually saying anything substantial. Suddenly, music begins to play--it's Pachelbel's Canon in D, but with a slightly edgy feel to it--is that U2? The talking instantly stops and we all turn around--four faces in a crowd of indistinguishable guests--to watch an angelic procession. It appears that when the music began to play, reality shifted; we are no longer sitting in a church, we are sitting in someplace other, someplace outside of existence. Eight luminous girls walk in a single line down the aisle, dressed in satiny purple, holding freshly gathered flowers that actually dim in comparison to their bearers. The faint lights cause the fabric on each of the eight girls' dresses to glow with an inner radiance. Following this grand entrance, three fairy-like children come down the aisle--a boy holding symbols of perpetual unity, glistening, and two beautiful girls, gently dropping petals to the ground, appearing to make ready the earth for someone too glorious to walk thereon.

Then, all movement stops. Silence. No one dares even to move. I notice that, for a second, I'm not breathing, because the anticipation of what's to come is almost unbearable. I hear one of my friend's whisper, "She's going to be so beautiful," but I don't even acknowledge the comment because I don't want to miss that first glimpse.

Suddenly, we all rise in an act of reverence to the perfection that enters the sanctuary. The bride walks down the aisle, beaming, with her eyes glued to the man that she loves. For a second, she is unrecognizable--she appears to transcend humanity. She is not simply happy, she is happiness. The union of lover and beloved, two beings becoming one flesh, reveals the reality of miracles.