Going to the Altar

There I was - sitting in church one Sunday afternoon with my mom and my stepfather. My usual twice a month visit where I go and basically try to understand what I can do to make myself a better person. This particular Sunday's message was on marriage. The preacher had been doing about a month long series on it. I think I had caught the first one a few weeks before. It was a typical Sunday again but what happened on this particular day was beautiful.

He spoke about men and women and the ups and downs of marriage, something everyone that has been married knows about. He made the typical jokes about men not listening and women nagging - the usual. We all laughed at the right spots and nodded our heads to the stories. It was when he started talking about how couples are suppose to be that really touched off the wave of hopefulness in everyone.

The moment that I realized how important that partner is to each of us is when the preacher was closing the sermon. Every Sunday, he wraps up the sermon asking anyone who would like to come and pray, to do so, down at the altar. Usually about a handful of people go up, kneel and pray and go back to their seats. Not a lot of people at all. Most of the time I keep my eyes open just to check everything out - not to snoop - but it feels comfortable. On this day, the preacher asked the same thing he always does. Only today people stood up all around. They were holding their partner's hand. They were doing it together.

How brave they were with their partner by their side! It gave them courage and peace of mind to know that they were near and were going to come up with them! They were not alone...

I can relish in this because I now have someone in my life that will walk with me all of the way.