I recently had the opportunity to serve as probably the oldest best man of this year’s wedding season. An unusual vantage point, since I am often the officiant. Malachi had been renting a room from us, and we had become good friends. Photo from rehearsal. Here is what I had to say at the reception:
Malachi, I was surprised when you asked me to be your best man, because when you first asked me about dating Lily, I told you it was not a good idea. I had known Lily longer, and I wanted the best for both of you. But if I’m honest, at the start, I probably most wanted the best for her.
That was over a year ago, after you moved into our upstairs bedroom. Since then, you and I have met just about every Tuesday evening—usually over a bowl of berries and whipped cream, courtesy of my own bride of five decades.
We’ve talked about your faith, your future, and your anxieties. Your finances, your education, your former girlfriends. We’ve talked about your guy friends—and how well you care for them. We’ve talked about how you apologize for everything. And we’ve talked about Lily. A lot.
It’s clear that you love her. And it’s clear that you understand what that means—not just an emotion to feel, but a covenant to keep. You’ve grown this past year. I’ve watched your confidence deepen, your plans take root, and your affections settle into something steady and strong. Now, you are, in fact, the best for her.
You are the best for her because you love the Lord more. Because you are principled and careful. Because you listen—and you make her laugh. Because you have a servant’s spirit. And because the Lord brought her to you, and He delights in you both.
Lily needs your steadiness, and you need her spontaneity. You need her creativity and joy. And you can both be a little stubborn, so there is that. You will not be bored. And that’s good, because you are now one flesh, until death alone shall part you. And this, Jesus said, is the work of God. I believe this.
But just a few pointers.
First, let Lily cook. If you do cook, turn the burner down. Unlike the one-speed, one-temp cooking you did at summer camp, food—and life—have more flavor when you let things simmer.
Second, learn to say no. You are both quick to commit. But you will need a sense of sabbath to serve others—and to serve each other well.
And finally, learn to see one another clearly and continue to receive one another gladly. Do this every day. I hope I always see the joy and anticipation in your face when you are with Lily that I see now.
Oh, and one more thing—You usually pause before you speak. I like that about you. Continue to be swift to hear and slow to speak, as the Apostle instructed. But when you do disagree (and you will), give that silence one extra beat. Even if it annoys her at first, that extra beat may protect you both. It is always better to understand than to win.
And now,
May the Lord make you increase and abound in love.
May He establish your hearts, blameless in holiness before Him.
May your home be a place of peace, your table a place of joy,
and your life together a witness to His covenant-keeping love.
And what God has joined together, let no one separate.
____
See my tips for the toast
the daysman 