A Lesson in Self-Control and Humility

Survived the rough weekend and learned a bit of a lesson in it as well.

After finishing up the LYO retreat and attending the graduation party, I hurridly got my stuff together for the wedding service I was to officiate at.  I arrived at the hall about 15 minutes before the start of the wedding, and I proceeded to wait.

And wait.

And wait.

The groomsmen and groom arrived roughly 10 minutes before the scheduled start of the service.

But the bride and bridal party were nowhere to be found.

And so we waited.

And waited.

And waited.

I finally called my wife who was to bring our kids to the reception at around 4:30.  "Honey, the bride's not here, and we haven't even started.  I'll call you when (and if, I thought) everything is done."

We continued to wait.

The groomsmen were having a time debating whether or not the bride would even show.

The groom was unfazed.  He meandered over to me and started laying it out.  "After the week we just had, nothing's going to faze us."

He went onto explain.  Their week culminated with him winning full custody of his son in a dispute with his first wife.  Apparently, she was in jail awaiting charges that she had tried to stick a knife through her current husband's head.  (Do you know that you hear all types of interesting stories about life as a clergy?)  He went to battle to remove his son from that situation.

What complicated matters was his own checkered past.  "I'm no saint," he said.  In fact, he informed me he served some time because of substance abuse.  "I never tried to hurt anyone but myself."  However, they did try to use that past against him in court.  Luckily, he had a very good lawyer to side him, and the groom made a very courageous statement in my opinion.  "I'll go back to jail before I see my son in that situation again," he spoke.

Amazing story.

Worth listening too as a man wrestled with his past and planned for a future based more in responsibility.

Never would have heard it if the bride wouldn't have been late.

But, I was still pissed.

I was tired.

My kids were pissed that dad hadn't been home all weekend--the first weekend they were all home from school together.

I could have been spending time with them.  I could have been resting from the retreat and allowing myself to get ready for services the next day.

Don't folks respect my time?

That's something that's been drilled into me since my youth.  If you say you are going to do something at a certain time, do it.  Time is valuable.

And it is.  To a certain extent.  But I was overvaluing it at the time.  I didn't realize it until later.

As it was, I was growing more and more angry.  I knew I needed to settle down and confront this rising beast within me, so I went off alone.  I grabbed a chair.  I sat and began to meditate.

I focused on my breathing and told myself over and over, "Breathe in God's Spirit, breathe out anger and frustration."  It's a technique I learned long ago.

For 10 straight minutes, I sat with eyes closed, praying and breathing.  The anger began to subside.

I had a wedding to do.  I had God's Word to proclaim at that wedding.  Anger must not show through me--the love of God and His Word for this couple and gathered assembly is primary.

The bride and her party finally arrived, and the service was conducted.  I preached one of my stronger wedding sermons completely off the cuff.  Even took a shot at the lateness of the bride that drew rolls of laughter without allowing any condemnation.  Celebration ensued.

During the reception, the bride and groom sat down with me for about five minutes.  Generally, I don't get that courtesy.  They are busy elsewhere greeting all the other folks.  I'm an afterthought because my job is done.  But not for them.  Their thankfulness was palatable.  I could not only see it and hear it in their manner, but I could feel their genuinness as we spoke together.  They compensated me handily for the time I spent with them that day, and it was the icing on the cake.  A cake I almost missed because I almost allowed my anger to control me instead of vice versa.  I was humbled at the end of the day, and it was a good lesson learned.