My husband and I had the honor of officiating our eldest son’s wedding this summer. After the ceremony, all one hundred guests gathered under an enormous tent in our front yard where tables laden with hundreds of sunflowers and cosmos, heaps of perfectly prepared barbecue, and ice cold root beers awaited them. We toasted, feasted, remembered, laughed, and cried.
Several weeks later, our little town celebrated its 300th birthday. After a parade and town-wide picnic, the festivities culminated with fireworks. For the finale, all of the pyrotechnics were gold. After the last one burst open, a magical shimmering curtain of glitter hung in the air and drifted in slow motion down to earth. The satisfied oohs and aahs transitioned to hearty applause before we all packed up our folding chairs and headed home.
At the conclusions of both events we felt gloriously full—spiritually and physically. And that was the point. Celebrations of this kind are so much more than a valid diversion from work or an excuse to eat too much; they invite us to enter into God’s joy by remembering his faithfulness and goodness.
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