Make sure you have room in your heart for absolutely everybody

On August 18, Dan and Chris (no not me and Dan) got married in San Diego

I’m standing there in California, which in itself is a fresh batch of cookies for the soul.

The garden is packed with smiling people—each face trained on handsome grooms.

I’d known the couple to wed for years. We met for the first time in the spring of 2003 and liked another well enough to travel to Europe that autumn.

In the time we’ve known each other, Chris and Dan have taught me how to appreciate wine, the joy of British humour, hardiness zones for plants, and a host of other things that enriched my world view.

When I heard that after 14 years together they were getting married, I marked my calendar and hung the invitation on our fridge.

—

So there I was, back at the ceremony on that August afternoon.

A fella named Austin officiated with particular charm, telling the story of how Dan and Chris met. He spoke of their love for one another and for everyone that stood before them to witness that day. I don’t remember all the words but I will say that I stole the title of this journal entry from Austin’s recollection of the day:

“Make sure you have room in your heart for absolutely everybody.”

I’m not going to try and butch it up folks. I cried at the apex of the ceremony.

These were tears for not only my friends, but for the very experience and possibility of their union.

As election day looms, I’m reminded that this marriage might be revoked if Proposition 8 is passed in California. And even though this is all going on with seven states between us, it’s heartbreaking to see the news and advertisements from the opposition.

I’m reminded of words by Robert F. Kennedy,

Our lives on this planet are too short and the work to be done too great to let this spirit flourish any longer in our land. Of course we cannot vanish it with a program, nor with a resolution. But we can perhaps remember – even if only for a time – that those who live with us are our brothers, that they share with us the same short movement of life, that they seek – as we do – nothing but the chance to live out their lives in purpose and happiness.

On that afternoon, in that backyard garden in San Diego, I shared some of that happiness, and I’m very grateful.

Here are some images from the day