Chapter 94
Chapter 94
I continued speaking to Camp and Casey. “I don’t really expect you two to remember what I’m about to say to you, but you can watch the video.”
Then I told the story of the shower, the hospital, and me telling Casey that someday some guy would come along, and he’d be crazy about her. His palms would sweat and his heart would palpitate and that moment was now. He was here. Casey, meet Camp. They all laughed. While I spoke, Gunner broke rank, circled me, and sat alongside me. Which elicited more laughter, which was what he wanted.
Then I talked about Camp and how we’d lured him to Vegas and he’d not taken the bait, and how I admired him and how he had yet to tell me a single thing about this chest full of Purple Hearts and Bronze and Silver Stars, which said a lot about him. Finally, I told them about the rescue, how he was cool under pressure, and then how he’d asked me for Casey’s hand and why. Because he knew her tether was attached to me. And how in this moment, it was being loosed from me and placed with him.
Finally, I turned to the audience. “When Casey walked down this aisle and took Camp’s trembling hand, each of us watched with expectation and joy. None more so than Camp. And while you might be listening to me, right this second, all of you—me included, and none more so than these two—are wanting me to get on with it so they can say their vows and kiss. Why? Because this thing we’re doing, this hope, this expectation, this joy written on our hearts, is a picture of what’s to come. The bridegroom returning for his bride.”
After my sermonette, I turned back to the two of them. “You may face each other.” Then, because Camp forgot, I whispered, “You can lift the veil now.”
Laughter bubbled up from the audience.
“Hold hands.”
More laughter and they did.
I looked to Casey, who repeated after me. “I, Casey, in the name of God, take you, Camp, to be my wedded husband. To share with you in God’s plans for our life together, united in Christ. To be a loving wife to you with God’s help and strength, seeking Him always no matter the trial, to love and cherish, in sickness or health, in joy or sorrow, for richer or poorer, until we are parted by death. I give you all that I have and all of my love. This is my solemn vow.”
Then I turned to Camp. “I, Camp, in the name of God, take you, Casey, to be my wedded wife.” It was at this point that I began hearing sobs from the audience. “To share with you in God’s plans for our life together, united in Christ. To be a loving husband to you with God’s help and strength...” The sobs grew louder. “Seeking Him always no matter the trial, to love and cherish, in sickness or health, in joy or sorrow, for richer or poorer, until we are parted by death. I give you all that I have and all of my love. This is my solemn vow.”
The percentage of people crying was near 100 percent. Summer was a wreck. Bones was thumbing away tears. Clay had entirely crumpled his second handkerchief, refolded it, and then handed it to Summer, who smeared makeup all over it and then handed it back. Jess, normally stoic, was halfway into a box of Kleenex, and poor Eddie was almost inconsolable. It was a beautiful picture. A beautiful moment. And while I wanted to get these two married, I also wanted to sit in the beauty for a minute. To stay right here.
Gunner knew we needed a tension breaker and a bit of a laugh, so when I turned to him, held out my hand, and said, “May I have the rings to seal these vows?” he rolled over onto his back, stuck his paws into the air, and whined. Which was Gunner-speak for “Here, scratch my belly.”
Everyone laughed. Which we needed. I stared at all the faces. The smiles. Tears. The total contrast to when I first saw them. Dark hotel rooms. Trunks of cars. Cabins in the woods. Hostels in Europe. Mansions in Russia. Townhomes in New York City. While the locations might have differed, their facial expressions when we kicked down the door were all the same. They all spoke of the horror they’d experienced, wordlessly pleading, Get me out of here . Their expressions also spoke one more thing. And it was the worst thing. Given what had happened to them, the evils that had been committed upon them, and the rejection they had known every hour on the hour for weeks, months, or years, their hearts were broken. Shattered. Ten trillion pieces scattered across the floor. And when I tried to lift them up and out of the hell in which I found them, most of them whispered, “Who could ever love a used-up, discarded piece of flesh like me?” Because that’s what was stolen. They’d come to believe they were of no value. Worthless. At some point they’d stopped hoping. For each one, hope had died. I saw it in their eyes. And maybe that was the most evil act inflicted upon a human. To not kill their body but to kill their hope and force their soul to wander through life hopeless.
But staring out across that crowd with heads on shoulders, arms wrapped around shoulders, snotty tissues, puffy eyes, red cheeks, knees tucked into chests, smiles stretched ear to ear—I saw it return. When it did, I turned to Bones. He saw it too. Maybe he was looking for it. Maybe he’d seen it before me. Whatever the case, he held Summer’s hand and mouthed these words: “We are in the hope business.”
And he was right.
I knelt, untied the rings from Gunner’s collar, and scratched his tummy. Standing, I returned to the two of them. “A cord of three strands is not easily broken. Lord, bless these rings to be a sign of these vows by which this man and this woman have bound themselves to each other through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.”
Camp’s hand was shaking. A man who had commanded combat missions around the globe, and he was nervous putting a ring on a finger. It showed the extent of his love and depth of commitment. Evidence he was all in. I whispered, “Repeat after me.”
He nodded but never took his eyes off Casey. “Casey, I give you this ring as a symbol of my vow, and with all that I am and all that I have, I honor you. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, with this ring I thee wed.”
Then I turned to Casey and placed Camp’s ring in her palm. When she received it, she stepped to my side, kissed me on the cheek, and said, “Thank you.”
Until that moment, I had done a pretty good job of holding it together. After that, not so much. That was when I started crying. Her tender kiss pretty much broke the dam. I stood amazed at this woman. Whole. Healed. Strong. Giving herself completely and without reservation to this man. Heart full of hope. Eyes full of light. Spirit full of love.
I used the handkerchief Clay had given me to get my act together and compose myself while everyone in front of me laughed. Another much-needed tension breaker. “Casey, place this ring on the fourth finger of his left hand and repeat after me.”
Casey did and stood waiting. “Camp, I give you this ring as a symbol of my vow, and with all that I am and all that I have, I honor you. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, with this ring I thee wed.”
They stood staring at each other. Smiles. Tears. Hearts pounding. I placed my hand on top of theirs and said, “Now, may the Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make his face to shine upon you and be gracious to you; the Lord lift up his countenance upon you and give you peace.”
Every wedding came down to one point. All of us, me included, wanted to get through the vows and the rings because we were all here to see one thing. Sure, we cared about the dress, the decorations, the ceremony, all the stuff—but we were here to witness one act. The kiss. It was universal. Every face in front of me was singularly focused on that one final act. For the kiss was what sealed it.
“Camp and Casey, in Christ you have become one. Now that you have given yourselves to each other by solemn vows, with the joining of hands and the giving and receiving of rings, in covenant before God and all of us, I pronounce you husband and wife. Those whom God has joined together, let no man put asunder.”
The audience inhaled a singular collective breath, held it, and sat unmoving in a room without sound.
“Camp, you may kiss your bride.”
And he did.
And the world breathed again. “I’d like to present to you Mr. and Mrs. Jay Middlecamp.” The two turned, and Camp offered his arm to Casey. But just before she took it, she extended her hand to my face and thumbed a tear. Then she smiled, locked arms with her husband, and let out a fist-pumping “Woo-hoo!” shared by everyone in attendance. Camp waited as his saber bearers got into position, starting with the first pew. One of them then ushered a quiet “Center face” command, and all the men turned and faced one another. This was followed by “Arch sabers,” at which point each man drew his sword with the right hand and extended it in an arch across the aisle until the tip of one saber touched the tip of the opposing saber. Cutting edge up. Once safe, Camp led his wife beneath the arch and into their new life while the audience chanted, “Camp, Camp, Camp...”
The raucous applause drowned out the beautiful music. Only then did I notice Sister Catalonia standing in the back corner. She, too, was crying. And I couldn’t say for certain, but something in her demeanor was different. Not bad. Not painful. But wishful. And I wondered.