One year ago, a seamstress shuffled us to the far end, Pedestal number three, please, positioning Lauren in front of a ceiling-to-floor mirror, a reflection revealing what I already knew to be true: my daughter was glowing. Her wedding gown, a faint blush, exuded a tender and exquisite femininity.
The middle-aged seamstress, dressed in black from shoulder to toe, crouched nimbly at my daughter’s hemline, glass pins hovering delicately between her lips as her thimbled fingers flew—in, out, in, out, in, out—pinning the gown.
She worked quietly, square fingernails neatly clipped, eyebrows furrowed. After a time, she glanced at me, removing three pins from pressed lips. Her voice was soft, her English broken.
Beautiful gown, she said.
Isn’t it, though? I smiled.
Your only daughter?
I nodded, feeling an encroaching shadow—the impossible rush of time—hovering.
I glanced up as another bride entered the stitching room, and stepped atop pedestal one, while her sister dropped into the chair by her side.
This bride did not twirl or smile, sashay or smooth. She stood still, hunched in her gown, auburn hair limp, eyes dull. She studied my daughter who was turning and spinning at the seamstress’s bidding.
After a few minutes, I grew uncomfortable with her bleak-eyed staring and said:
When is your wedding?
In four weeks.
Exciting! I said. Do you have brothers and sisters?
Just four older brothers.
I grinned. Well that is fun! Lauren–I pointed–has three older brothers.
She nodded.
Are they excited? I said. Or feeling protective, maybe?
She shrugged.
I guess you could say they are supportive.
She pointed at the woman seated by her side.
This is my wife-to-be.
The poker-faced seamstress caught my eye and returned to hemming.
Just then, another seamstress waltzed to the middle of the room, chatting and laughing as she bid the bride to ascend, thus blocking my view.
Lauren spun slowly, while the seamstress hovered, searching for the slightest mistake. It must be perfect, she murmered.
Later, as we made our way to the register, my daughter touched my arm.
That was so sad Mom, wasn’t it?
I nodded, searching the boutique for the groomless bride. How I longed to speak with her.
But she was gone.
***
It gnaws at me, still: the gospel conversation I did not have with the confused bride, the gospel conversation I did not have with the seamstress at my daughter’s feet, and my woeful unpreparedness in such an awkward situation.
As a Christian, I do not find it difficult to understand and teach women the truth of biblical marriage, God’s way: one man and one woman in covenant for life. God makes his design stunningly clear.
But it takes courage and preparedness to graciously apply these truths in real-time situations, sharing the world’s only hope, Christ, in daily encounters.
May God grant me boldness, next time.
I invite you to register for Write the Truth, Beautifully,™ my three-session Zoom class this June.
The Palest Ink 
Kristin, How I feel your regret. I too had a situation 6 years ago in which I had a opportunity to share the gospel with a young college age man at a county fair and I failed… It still haunts me to this day. I go over the conversation in my head often.. I could see in his sweet, curious face the longing to talk about who God was. What am I to Him, and the ‘what does it all mean’ kind of questioning.. And for some reason- I just FAILED in that moment.. I gave limp answers,. Nothing of weight or significance- just more ‘vanilla like’ words to cause him to walk away empty of the mustard seed I should have planted. The Truth I should have developed more so that I could share who my Wonderful Lord is and what He did for us on Calvary- … So I now often think of what happened to that young man. How much ‘harm’ came to him because I was not boldly clear nor prepared with sharing the Gospel message that day…. When that moment in time comes to my thoughts, I pray for him earnestly. I know that Gods revelation of Truth is His timing alone- but I also know I failed in my mission that day.. 6 years ago- 15 minutes in total- I can never get that back to offer the Message of Mercy & Grace that this young man needed to hear. That so many NEED TO HEAR.. May we prepare ourselves well with courage and clarity to share the most important words we will ever utter to another person- ‘We are sinners in need of a Savior- and that Savior is Jesus Christ. The answer to ALL questions and for all our longing is He. Let me tell you all about Him’. … May God Bless you Kristin in your future encounters…* M
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Kristin, How I feel your regret. I too had a situation 6 years ago in which I had an opportunity to share the gospel with a young college age man at a county fair and I failed… It still haunts me to this day. I go over the conversation in my head often.. I could see in his sweet, curious face the longing to talk about who God was. What am I to Him, and the ‘what does it all mean’ kind of questioning.. And for some reason- I just FAILED in that moment.. I gave limp answers,. Nothing of weight or significance- just more ‘vanilla like’ words to cause him to walk away empty of the mustard seed I should have planted. The Truth I should have developed more so that I could share who my Wonderful Lord is and what He did for us on Calvary… So I now often think of what happened to that young man. How much ‘harm’ came to him because I was not boldly clear nor prepared with sharing the Gospel message that day…. When that moment in time comes to my thoughts, I pray for him earnestly. I know that Gods revelation of Truth is His timing alone- but I also know I failed in my mission that day.. 6 years ago- 15 minutes in total- I can never get that back to offer the Message of Mercy & Grace that this young man needed to hear. That so many NEED TO HEAR.. May we prepare ourselves well with courage and clarity to share the most important words we will ever utter to another person- We are sinners in need of a Savior- and that Savior is Jesus Christ. The answer to ALL questions and for all our longing… May God Bless you Kristin in your future encounters…
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🙏🏻
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I have had many missed opportunities; I am so thankful for your sharing here… “ye fearful saints, fresh courage take”… I hear your hopeful reminder… to be ready and expectant.
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Yes!🙏🏻
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I sympathize and relate, but also realize in my 65 years of living (almost 50 of them with our Lord) that He is sovereign, guiding our steps moment by moment, giving wisdom when needed, but also sometimes withholding words from us. A practice I’ve adopted is when you don’t know what to say–don’t. God saw your loving heart in looking for that forlorn bride. May He send others to shed His light and joy into her life.
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🙏🏻
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