The Bride
Wednesday, September 23, 2009


“I appeal to you brothers, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that all of you agree with one another so that the3re may be no divisions among you and that you may be perfectly united in mind and thought.” (I Cor. 1:10)


                It was the wedding of the ages.  People came from around the globe – people from every religion, every skin color, and every language.  Any hostilities which were felt among the guests were all checked in at the door of this massive cathedral.   Warm smiles were on the faces of all. Excitement filled the air for no one had ever experienced a wedding like this one.

                Unlike most modern weddings, however, the eyes were not on the bride, but on the groom.  He stood, tall and stately, at the head of the aisle.  People were enthralled by his attractiveness.  They could not take their eyes off him.  On his left were 24 men who stood steadfast in their love and support.  Not one of them could take their eyes off this groom whom they clearly loved.  Handsome was not the word which best described him.  Maybe the word was glorious.  His eyes were bright as flames, his smile as warm as a baby in a crib, and his countenance as gentle as a trade wind.  The question on everyone’s mind – “Who could possibly be the lucky bride?”

                As the bridesmaids entered, each one looked into the eyes of the groom with tears in their eyes.  Then there was a very pregnant pause.  Suddenly, as if the silence could no longer be born, it was shattered by the organ as the Wedding March’s initial keys were struck.  The congregation instantaneously rose.  And all heads were turned to the back of this massive building.  The huge, intricately carved doors swung open.  All of a sudden the room was filled with a gasp that started at the back and rumbled all the way to the front as the bride became visible.


                The bride’s dress was torn in shreds.  Not the kind of tears that come from nicks and cuts, but the kind of tears which come from violence.  And the gown was filthy.  Mud covered the garment from bodice to the bottom hem.  Blood was splattered all over it.  Some of the blood was black with age, some was fresh as if the bride were in a brawl just before entering.  One arm of the bride clutched at the top of the dress to keep it from falling and exposing her nakedness.  She had a sneer on her face, contorted and cold.  Her lips were twisted in a dare, lest anyone should challenge her.  Her hair was matted and tangled from the obvious fights she had been entangled in.  And anger filled her eyes.  How dare this presumptuous groom call for the wedding on this day of all days?  Didn’t he know that she set the schedules; she set the mood, she set the theme, she set the rules?


                As she turned to start down the center aisle, her expression did not change, but the heads of the congregation turned gradually, almost ashamedly to look into the face of this glorious groom.  But instead of a look of horror and rejection, he raised his arms in accepting devotion to his bride.  For the first time the visitors could see his mangled hands, scars so deeply imbedded that they could never go away.  And gradually their gaze lifted to his face.  Tears of heartache streamed down his cheeks, a visible lump was in his throat, for as he looked into her war torn face, he knew he was no longer her first love.

Kingdom Road Ministries
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Victor, ID 83455

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