There's No Wordsmithing the Almighty

So we've finally heard back from the Officient...remember that blog back in April (An officient in Starbucks)? Yes, he's still our officient (Associate Pastor - who knew he had such credentials? we found him online - I'm not ashamed.) He's been helping us write our ceremony. I want a little more humor...the boy? He's all business. Let's face it. He's in PR. He writes for a living. He edits, he screens, he talks a good talk. His pen has been gliding over this ceremony draft in smooth edity like marks. It's ridiculous.

We're trying to find a nice way of recognizing those who are no longer with us in a way that remembers their contribution to our lives without being overly sappy. AKA, I am trying really hard not to cry at this wedding ceremony thing. Let's just do it already.

We recieved the ceremony (draft 1) from our officient today and over a magnum of wine, I convinced my loving fiance to sit down and edit it to a place where we both feel comfortable. Among the words 'some may argue', 'respect', 'miracle' and many many more words we're struggling with, we begin to edit to a point where we begin to feel more like ourselves and less like the ceremonies heard time and time again. And for those of you who know us - you know that we're flip flops and beer (or good wine) kind of poeple.

We arrive at a reading I've selected because it reminds me of my Grandfather, Poppee, who loves a certain Psalm. When he passed away I wrote a song to his favorite Psalm. I sang it at his memorial. To commemorate him and his song, we've asked that the Officient read it. The boy, still in editing mode begins to take his pen to paper. Suddenly, he looks up at me, blue eyes glistening. He leans back in his chair and sighs. "There's really no wordsmithing the Almighty, is there?". "No babe," I say. No edits.