Always A Hostess
For a woman, your status at a wedding is surprisingly similar to the temple of God. I know I said it was similar to your current relationship with your crush, but bear with me. #INeedNewMaterial
You can be either one of many levels: the hostess, the bridesmaid or the bride. I’ve been granted access to 2 out of 3 of the levels. I’m still trying to present myself without a “spot or wrinkle or any other blemish” and to “be holy and without fault.” But no worries, the time will come. As of now, I can only enjoy the levels I have been able to master.
A time of service
Growing up I never considered ever wanting to be a hostess in someone’s wedding. I only imagined myself as a bride or a bridesmaid. One or the other. Or just be a guest member, crying my eyes out during the exchange of vows. When I got saved, I noticed a lot of couples had younger people serve at their weddings and they used this cute phrase “hostess” to make it seem official. The only place I heard the word was when I went to TGI Friday's or when I stuff my face with a Hostess donuts. Apparently, a hostess is basically someone who works for free at your wedding. Being young, it was so much fun. Free food and I can attend your wedding. But now, things done changed, Hunny. The word is a thorn in my flesh. As a “late mid” twenty-year-old, a hostess is like Cinderella serving her step-sisters as they got to go to the Ball. You work and sweat, while they dance and laugh.
A few months ago, a dear sister of mine asked me to be her hostess. Because of love, I agreed. Because of the body pain and sore feet the day after, I promised that was my last wedding being a hostess for. All my big sisters and brother in the Lord were married at this point. However, that didn't take my resume off the “Hostess with the most-est” job portal.
A friend asked me to be a “wedding coordinator” at her wedding. The title sounded so sweet to my ears, I immediately agreed.
I should have asked for the job description because I soon learned that it was basically a hostess that studied abroad.
We all know where this is going. I was plotting how I could break the news to her that I couldn't be able to do it.
“Why not?” you ask.
Essentially, I was just being prideful. She was a younger bride asking me, who is one breath away from thirty, to work and slave at her wedding, as she dances the night away with her the love of her life. Other “reasons” came to my mind to say no. Many of which I am too ashamed to admit to.
I couldn't think of a gracious way to decline to be a hostess at her wedding.
One Sunday, while service was going on, sitting next to her, I extended my right hand over her thigh to hold her last two right fingers. We were barely holding hands when I felt this subtle, but overwhelming sensation run through my body. It was as if embracing her reset my mind. I felt this peace take over and it was then that I knew that the Holy Spirit was speaking. In that moment, I was reminded of my particular love for her, thus compelling me to desire to assist her on her big day. Looking back, I realized that she has a servant’s heart. She loves to serve others and lay down her life for others. But the irony is that as much she sacrifices for others, she tends to not receive the same honor when it's her turn. But that's the scandal of it all, she serves with no anticipation of a favor returned. And this led me to my ultimate decision to take my hostess assignment with honor.
So catch your girl in the corner at the wedding, stuffing my face as I cry over the couple’s first dance.
*end of part 1/3*