I am in Sydney at the moment, until late in the evening on Monday. I came over for a friends wedding. The wedding was today, it was beautiful. I barely got to see him, and he'll be off on his honeymoon now, so I probably won't really get to see him until I come back for the conference in March.

And that got me to thinking, why did I come? Why did I go to all the effort for a couple of hours? Simple, to share in his joy. To partake of the joy of someone who, though I haven't seen him since India, means a lot to me. To see him overcome with joy. To meet his new wife and see her joy. And it was totally worth it.

I came to share in their desire to commit to each other, to celebrate the journey they embark on with them. I really do think Marriage is a wonderful and beautiful institution, and something that I think should be celebrated whenever it happens; and to be able to celebrate it with a friend is just wonderful.

There is a kind of intimacy that comes with a marriage that cannot be found elsewhere. A kind of knowing of someone else, and being known, that is incredible. It's something that I feel particularly blessed to be a part of. It's a terrible tragedy that I take it for grant some, perhaps most, of the time. But that doesn't make it less wonderful.

I entitled this entry silence because I am in Sydney alone. Natalya is at home with the kids. With my friend away with his wife as he should be, I don't really know anyone here. I have spent the last two days largely in silence. I have talked, but it's been purely functional; ordering food, checking in to the hotel etc. I really notice the fact that there is no one to talk to at a deeper level. No intimacy. The funny thing is that if I was at home I probably wouldn't have deeper conversations with Natalya anyway, but now that I can't have them, I miss them dearly.

But at the same time I am enjoying the silence and anonymity. for the first time in what seems like ages, I have time to stop, to process, to reflect, to hope and to really pray. And it's good. Even if it's a funny place to be, alone but not lonely.