The church is called a Bride in the Bible. Much like a Bride on a wedding day looking all superbly beautiful and yet, coming home, we know that this is not the final stage of that lady. Let me tell you, my bridal make up took effort. A bride is a sign of beauty, yet it is not a perfect beauty, for any Bride will eventually age and be sick and be far from the perfect form. Mostly, any Bride will finally die. Gosh, yes. Sorry for ruining your wedding day, but you, too, are going to die.

In a same way, people making up the church are far from perfect. Yet we are called the Bride. What can it mean? A Bride is a wife in the making, she is not yet it. I love that, we are not yet there. We are, similarly to a Bride, awaiting a promise, something that will have lasting impact. Imagine the legal implications alone that a wedding bring. You now own half.

I love my church. Not quite as much as God loves her, true. In fact, I find myself get bothered about that pore showing, and the nail polish not being applied quite correctly and those bobby pins showing. And look at the hem of that dress? Not appealing. Yes, there are things that are far from perfect, yet, I love my church.

So here, church, thanks for being made up of imperfect people, for how else could I possibly learn to love those that are unlovable? How else can I possibly see that I am actually one of them? And understand that I am loved regardless? Imagine a husband running off due to some flaw in the hem of the dress. See!



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