The Vows of My Freedom, by Peter Laffin

A remarkable thing happened about an hour before my wedding. One of my groomsmen ushered the best man and me into an empty room of the house we were using to dress. Then he held out his hands, bowed his head, and led the three of us in prayer. He was and is a dear friend, but it was the first time I’d ever seen him pray. A fallen-away Evangelical, his voice shook with sweet uncertainty as he asked for God’s blessing. It was an unforgettable moment.

We said the Our Father and broke for the car that would take us to the church. I sat in the passenger seat and watched the farms and meadows of rural New England pass under a silver sky. The momentousness of the ride – the last of my bachelor life – set the colors of the fields ablaze. …