Thoughts for Almost-Brides

It’s May. Wedding season draws on apace. Andrew and I are figuring out travel plans, bridal-party uniforms, gifts, and responses for a total of seven weddings between now and September.

As I watch my friends plan their festivities and occasionally give advice (I have great tricks for flowers—ask me), it reminds me of my own planning process and what I learned during that time. Wedding planning means hope and inspiration, but also incredible stress and fastidious detail. I want to offer a few encouragements if I can.

Preparing for marriage is a transition of your whole life. Andrew and I were engaged for five months, beginning the February of my senior year in college. Graduating, moving, looking for work, starting work, and planning among several states made for a stressful confluence of life events that I would never want to live through again. But others I know are dealing with similar pains. One couple is trying to remodel a house in time for their wedding while running all over the place with musical and theatrical engagements. Another is bending over backwards with the end of separate leases and timing their move with their wedding.

Obviously this isn’t difficult if you’re already living together, but for couples who respect Christian teachings on chastity, it escalates the logistics of marriage. One couple in our church had a funny experience with this. They were considering moving into the same apartment and sleeping separately to save money before the wedding. Everyone in their families and friend circles thought it was a great idea, or at least didn’t raise any fuss. Then they asked their pastor: “Absolutely not. Being a Christian is always more expensive.” So live apart they did.

I rehearse all this in order to emphasize to almost-brides that you’re not alone. When I tried to vent to my single friends about how hard it was to juggle my life at that time, the most common response was, “Oh, but you’re getting married! It’s so exciting!” And married friends, especially if they were older, frequently cooed, “Enjoy every minute!” Which was clearly impossible. It made me wonder if I was the only person in the world who wasn’t totally happy from the popping of the question to “You may kiss the bride.” I wasn’t. Wedding planning is hard, and everyone admits it afterwards.

Therefore, the measure of whether your engagement is successful is not whether you feel blissful 100% of the time. You should feel happy at your bridal shower, your engagement photo shoot, and other celebratory events. The rest is normal life. Your engagement, like your life, is a success if you and your intended are carving out quality time, pulling together as a team, looking ahead to potential conflicts and working out your differences, learning about marriage and opening up to each other, keeping peace with your families “as far as it depends on you”, and growing and encouraging each other in your faith (even when that means repentance and rebuke). If you haven’t learned how to fight yet, learn now. In all the fuss and hubbub there are moments of clarity, when you see—what? Something beyond usual. In certain conversations with Andrew, my mom, and others, I saw the past in new lights and the future becoming real. Misunderstandings averted, new relationships with parents, new certainty of your own identity, a clear moral road, a blessing from God, even a new angle of light on your beloved’s face or a trick of bearing—those are the moments you treasure, even into marriage.

Marriage is a new phase of life—for us it was a refreshing, overwhelming relief. The headaches are a necessary prelude to this life of belonging, self-giving, and devotion to the one you love. But it’s worth it.

Congratulations.