One of the most beautiful weddings I have ever participated in occurred not on the typical Saturday afternoon but a Thursday evening and instead of a sanctuary packed with family this one only involved six. There was the bride and groom, of course, along with the bride’s two teenage boys and the groom’s only daughter.

He was a widower and she had been divorced several years before. They both knew deep pain and over the weeks of marital preparation, we had explored together what such a sorrowful history would mean for the future. They were honest with me and with each other. As sad as broken marriages are, there is a light that can shine out of that gloom. It is the light of wisdom, of the realization of what it takes to make a marriage work, and what it really means to give your life to another.

In a curious way, I’ve found that I often appreciate these second marriages a little more than the ones where the bride and groom, well-meaning and conscientious as they may be, are just so ill-prepared for what lies ahead.

But there we were in the evening candlelight as husband and wife-to-be joined hands and joined hearts with a passion that almost sang out loud. One of the boys did sing, actually. A lovely tenor voice that offered a beautiful blessing upon the couple.

I suppose most pastors don’t weep at weddings but sometimes I can’t understand how not. Afterwards we all went to a little restaurant to celebrate. There was a toast or two but mainly there were quiet words and telling looks and it was a very beautiful thing.