Faith · Writing

The Wedding

It wasn’t one of those smug sort of weddings. You know the kind, right? Over the top in lavishness. No expense spared. The kind where the bride and groom are ostensibly the center of attention, but really they aren’t, because it’s all about showing off perceived wealth.

No, it wasn’t that kind of wedding.

It was the kind where the whole town turns for the celebration because they’re so happy for the couple. Because they’d watched those kids grow up since they were little. Because both sets of parents were nice hard-working people who probably had, at one time or another, helped every single person in that town.

J’s mother went. She had been invited.

Well, so had J — and he went along with some other people who were with him.

Everyone was having a great time — until the wine ran out.

J’s mother scoured the crowd looking for him. She finally found him sitting in a corner, away from the noise, chatting with some people.

She went to him and gently placed her hand on his arm to get his attention. When he looked at her she whispered, “They have no wine.”

“Woman,” he said — (why DID he call her ‘woman’ like that?? I don’t think it was meant to be unkind) — “what does this have to do with me?”

They looked at each other quietly, each studying the other’s expression. They knew each other so well. She knew things about him that no one else knew. Finally, he spoke again, “It’s not my time.”

His mother thought for a quick second. She had assumed he would take action. Were his words an acknowledgment that he could do something if he felt the time was right? She seized the moment. She turned to the wait-staff. “Do whatever he tells you,” she said.

And the rest, you know, is history. J delivered.

Water became wine. People scratched their heads and marveled, surprised and amazed. Some guests were totally oblivious — as we all are at times — and simply thought that the host had reserved the best wine for the end.

But one day the story would be told and retold and written down, because it was a miracle, and miracles need to be remembered.


This is my contribution to the MLMM Monday Wordle where the challenge is to weave some or all of the prompt words into a bit of writing. I chose to rewrite another well-known story from the Bible. This one appears in John 2. Of course, it may have happened in a way that is nothing like what I have written — but it’s fun to imagine.

The prompt words are: smug, noise, celebration, assumed, gentle, quiet, reserved, delivered, surprised, guest, one, unkind

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