Grace in Low Places

“In the last analysis, all moments are key moments, 

and life, itself, is grace.” –Frederick Buechner

All weddings are unique and special in their own way, but weddings that I've attended in Texas generally have a few similar components: well dressed women of all shapes and sizes, big jewelry, men who come with some type of secret system to ensure they can check the score of whatever sporting event may be going on during the wedding, a guest book, wedding attendants, a pastor who never fails to mention that Jesus’s first miracle was at a wedding, a communal recitation of the Lord’s Prayer, and, of course, fresh flowers.  After the couple is pronounced, then, there’s the reception, involving some type of whisky (be it served from a bar or stashed in flasks), a wedding cake, and the two-step (and, well, yes, usually a line dance too).  Then there’s what I call the anthem – a song that since the 1990s has been played at any and every respectable Texas wedding reception or, for that matter, any gathering of Texans or those who love Texas: Garth Brooks’ Friends in Low Places. 

Don’t bother having a wedding in Texas if this song is not going to be on the lineup.  When the first stanzas begin playing…everyone knows what is coming and, soon, just like the line in the sand that Colonel Travis drew at the Alamo, there is a division of those from Texas (including those who have adopted Texas as their homeplace) and those who have not been afforded the privilege.  For the former, we all circle round and become even more tribal than we generally are: signing at the top of our lungs the song, which we all know word for word.  “Blame it all on my roots, I showed up in boots, and ruined your black-tie affair…..” and we sing as the anthem plays on.  The latter group, at this point of the evening, generally retires to the sides of the dance floor not knowing what quite to make of the tribal practice.  They watch, and I suspect, are little jealous of the camaraderie among the folks who know and can sign the song word for word. 

The wedding that I had occasion to attend last weekend – a wedding of a dear friend who I have know since childhood - was no exception.  Set against the backdrop of the Hill Country just outside of Austin, Texas, my friend’s wedding was everything that makes a Texas wedding wonderful and then some.  We all filed in for the service, admired the beautiful bride and bridesmaids, said the Lord’s Prayer, and watched the couple exchange vows and rings.  Then, off to the reception to quench our thirst, dance, and catch up with each other.  As the evening rolled on, I caught up with friends who I had not seen in years.  We reminisced about days gone by, remembered friends who were no longer with us, and talked about plans and intentions that we once had but that had since taken a detour or backseat due to the realities of life.  Later in the evening, the touchstone of the night arrived: the first notes of the anthem began to play and, without fail and never missing a beat, we all circled round, locked arms, and, in the middle of the dance floor, began signing at the top of our lungs: “I’ve got in friends in low places, where the whisky drowns and the beer chases my blues away…”

As I sang with the chorus of Texans and friends assembled, I looked across the circle to see folks I had known for years, each changed in some significant respect but, also, each the same.  We had all long gone our separate ways.  We had each, separately, experienced life’s true joys and also its trials and setbacks.  But, at this moment, by grace, we were transported back to the place where we had all started: together.  

And, then, the voice of another old friend who had visited the Husband and me just days prior came to mind.  This friend has known the two of us and our families for years.  He is one of those people who, whenever you see him, it is like time never passed.  After lively dinner conversation, we retired to the veranda of our townhouse and continued our conversation about football, our Alma Mater, our families, our friends, loved ones who had passed, and where life had taken each of us unexpectedly.  At one point of the conversation, our sage friend remarked: I’ve learned two things over the years.  First, (and as it is written elsewhere), he said, “God resists the proud, but gives grace to the humble.” Second, he continued, “And, the thing about grace…grace is all there is.” 

As any onlooker who may have been in the Hill Country for last weekend's wedding would have observed, there was no pride or putting on airs in the in circle of friends singing.  For better or worse, we were all there humbly locked together by our arms and a shared past.  In this moment, surely we experienced an amazing grace that one can only find, as the song says, in low places.  For this, there is reason to be grateful.