Marriage Moats-Dark Windows

Published: Fri, 11/23/12

Marriage Moats

Caring for Marriage

There were a string of heartfelt speeches at the memorial service on Monday. It is an uncomfortable back bend to go to a funeral and Thanksgiving service in the same week. Are they incongruent, like when Benjamin swivels between penitent prayer for the thunderstorm to stop and verbally blasting Thunderboy? Or are they actually two hues in the same evening sky, inky edges girding rosy clouds that bid me goodnight?

The windows of the church were black. I don't frequent the cathedral after sunset, and was confused that magnificent stained glass crafted over decades by the premiere artisans of the day could be so completely robbed of beauty. If this had been my first time sitting in the pews I would have been conned into believing that the opaque arches were made of rusted iron. Color was as absent as it is in an abandoned coal mine.

But part of me remembered that the windows held incredible scarlet, azure, marigold and emerald pieced together to create a story. Many stories. Yet I felt cheated. The stories were invisible without sunlight bleeding through.

The young man whose life we had come to honor had fallen into darkness too. He could no longer find his way. But now he is waking up into the brilliance, and his colors are splashing alive.

Sometimes the person we marry feels dark. Their laughter has subsided, the beauty has dimmed. It is easy to be conned by the appearance that he or she has lost their story.

Yet I believe with everything in me that each grayed person will be stunning when the illumination behind them escapes the shroud.

Photo by Joy Feerrar

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