A radiant bride greeted guests with a briliant smile as she entered the reception hall after the wedding ceremony. She gracefully moved about the room, the train of her white gown flowing along the floor behind her, her veil cascading down her button-adorned back. She conversed with each guest one by one, taking the time to mingle and soak up the compliments. "You look absolutely lovely." "Your dress is divine." The lavish praises rang on and on. The bride couldn't be more proud or more appreciative of the crowd's adoration. She could have listened to them swoon over all evening. As a matter of fact she did. But where was the groom? All the attention focused on the bride and never once did she call anyone's attention to her husband. She didn't even notice his absence at her side. Scanning the room, I searched for him wondering. Where he could be?. I finally found him, but not where I expected him to be. The groom stood alone over in the corner of the room with his head down. As he stared at his ring, twisting the gold band that his bride just placed on his finger, tears trickled down his cheeks and onto his hands. That is when I noticed the nail scars. The groom was Jesus. He waited, but the bride never once turned her face toward the groom. She never held His hand. She never introduced the guests to Him. She operated independently of Him. I awoke with a sick feeling in my stomach, realizing that I'd been dreaming. "Lord, this is how I made you feel when I was looking for love in all the wrong places?" I wept at the thought of hurting Him so deeply.
From: Every Young Woman's Battle, by Shannon Ethridge and Stephen Arterburn
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