I’m not going to lie to you, because I have nothing to be ashamed of: I woke up on Friday feeling like a kid on Christmas morning. I could barely wait to get downstairs and turn on the TV to make sure it had happened, and of course to see what she had worn. And maybe to make sure that the little red light on the cable box was on so that I’d know the whole thing would be waiting for me when I got home from work.

Yes, it happened. And yes, I watched the coverage later–all six hours of it. My only source of Cool Points Pride is that I didn’t rise at 4 am to watch it live. But that afternoon, I sat in the wedge of our sectional, popcorn bowl between my knees, and alternately laughed and cried with rapid-fire succession as two people promised to love each other all their lives. I felt transported back to my own wedding eight months ago, when The Husband and I stood in front of a beach instead of at the altar in Westminster Abbey, and the only queens invited were more of the Elton John camp than the Elizabeth II variety. But the universality of it all hit me: the promises to God and each other, the nervous smiles, anxious laughter, waiting champagne. The feeling that we were embarking on something so much bigger than ourselves.

TH was more of the Jerry Seinfeld opinion, the “what’s the big deal?” naysayers who remained above the royal fray. And I spoke to others who just did not get it, this excitement over people none of us know, the ostentatiousness and expense of it all. While I allow them their opinion (I’m generous like that), I have to wholeheartedly disagree. In fact, I’ll do one better than that: I’m going to bring God into this mix.

Watching all the pomp and circumstance, hearing the trumpet calls and clanging bells, feeling the hope that only overt love can provide, I knew that for me, this wedding was more than just a fashion show or even historical event. There is a beauty in two people choosing each other to the exclusion of all other options; a grace in a promise that spans now and forever. We were made for so much more than this world we live in, this broken planet full of disasters and loss. We were created to inhabit a kingdom that never ends, and there is something about the presence of crowns and tiaras, of gilded script and grand cathedrals, that hints at the glory for which we were intended.

And as if that weren’t enough, there were bacon butties and laughing at the altar at Prince William’s “I just thought it would be a small family affair” joke.

Laughter, large-scale beauty, true love. What about that doesn’t call for celebration? I could easily be one of the mockers, part of the down-playing “when there’s so much pain in the world, why this?” refrain. But no. When this world gives us opportunities to witness light and joy, and our heavenly-designed hearts whisper for us to let beauty remind us of gardens and lead us to golden streets, I gladly accept the invitation.

But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation…