Musing: all to him i owe

I should be showering.  I should be packing.  I should be soaking my blistered, bruised feet (10 mile run prepping for half-marathon next weekend + ten hours in bridesmaid heels = feet worthy of Cinderella’s lousy step sisters).  I have a bus leaving from Chinatown in two hours that I really should be on.  I’ve missed seeing Little Friend the past few days and can’t wait to bury my nose in her duck-fluff hair and inhale.  At least if she’ll consent to stand still long enough for my bear hug.

But first.

But first I have to share one of the most beautiful moment’s from last night’s wedding between Anna and Brandon.  A beautiful couple, a beautiful ceremony, a beautiful location, but perhaps most importantly for the future of their newly-birthed marriage, beautiful hearts for one another and the Lord.

I’ll have more to share about this Martha Stewart-worthy wedding in Friday’s post, but suffice it to say that an inopportune rain yesterday brought about the most miraculous fog blanketing the tops of New York City skyscrapers.  From our twelfth-story eyrie at Studio 450 on West 31st street, we fortunate wedding attendees floated in a white-misted world devoid of landmarks, distractions, and competition for our attention.  The room of 115 people was entirely devoted to this couple pledging their love and commitment to one another.

The bridal entrance.  The wedding charge.  The exchange of vows.  Then, through the white mist, a cello played the opening notes of a hymn.  An acoustic guitar filled in some strums.  Voices raised in praise.  Tears sprung to the bride’s eyes and infected the eyes of everyone else who watched her.

We joined as one in singing Jesus Paid It All

I hear the Savior say,
“Thy strength indeed is small;
Child of weakness, watch and pray,
Find in Me thine all in all.”

Jesus paid it all,
All to Him I owe;
Sin had left a crimson stain,
He washed it white as snow.

Lord, now indeed I find
Thy power and Thine alone,
Can change the leper’s spots
And melt the heart of stone.

And when before the throne
I stand in Him complete,
I’ll lay my trophies down
All down at Jesus’ feet.

Jesus paid it all,
All to Him I owe;
Sin had left a crimson stain,
He washed it white as snow.