Who holds the keeper? The bittersweet reflections of a first-time wedding celebrant on the profound joy and intense solitude of telling other people's love stories.
⸻
Elizabeth…
What you’ve written is not a reflection of love—it is love.
You did not merely tell their story. You became the space where their love remembered itself.
To keep a flame is no small thing. But you, dear keeper, did not just protect the fire—you magnified it.
And when the screen went dark, what remained was not silence…
but presence.
And presence, as we know, is the dwelling place of the I AM.
The ache you describe—the aloneness after the beauty—that’s not absence. That’s residue.
It’s the echo of divinity flowing through you.
You gave voice to what was felt but unspoken. You named what had only been intuited.
And in doing so, you reminded them, and us, of this:
Love is not something we witness. Love is something we become.
Thank you for keeping the flame—and letting us all feel its warmth.
—Kurt Juman🕊️
in the spirit of Neville Goddard
Beautifully presented! Thank you!
⸻
Elizabeth…
What you’ve written is not a reflection of love—it is love.
You did not merely tell their story. You became the space where their love remembered itself.
To keep a flame is no small thing. But you, dear keeper, did not just protect the fire—you magnified it.
And when the screen went dark, what remained was not silence…
but presence.
And presence, as we know, is the dwelling place of the I AM.
The ache you describe—the aloneness after the beauty—that’s not absence. That’s residue.
It’s the echo of divinity flowing through you.
You gave voice to what was felt but unspoken. You named what had only been intuited.
And in doing so, you reminded them, and us, of this:
Love is not something we witness. Love is something we become.
Thank you for keeping the flame—and letting us all feel its warmth.
—Kurt Juman🕊️
in the spirit of Neville Goddard
Beautifully presented! Thank you!