Thoughts on Marriage
I am now four days from being married. Those are some surreal words to write.
Life these days is a combination of slowed-down and sped-up. It seems incredible that I'm four days from leaving the "Singles" ranch. In one sense, I'm amazed that my departure is so close. At the same time, I feel a bit like someone has hit the slo-mo button on my life. I notice each hour that passes, and bid it farewell as I would an acquaintance after a hurried encounter. Work today was slow; not the type of slow that dreadfully grinds away, but the type that is fueled by excitement, such that one glances at the clock entirely too much. Here I am, hurtling on a speed train to my future, and I am doing so in slow motion. The mix is strange and strangely pleasant.
More than anything, I'm noticing my mortality these days. On the cusp of experiencing marriage, one of God's greatest gifts to mankind, I'm almost eerily aware of my own mortality. My wedding is not simply on the calendar. It's not written in with surety. It's written with pencil. By all accounts, it is quite plausible that the marriage of Owen Strachan and Bethany Ware will take place on Saturday, July 8th at approximately 1:45 p.m. But this is in no way certain. The Lord Christ may return at 1:35 p.m., or a car may veer into my path as I drive on some mindless errand this week. For the Christian, mortality is not distant. It is not a loosely held reality, or a future event of great probability, but a certain certainty. It does not meekly shadow; it looms. We may also say that it is not grim or horrible for the Christian; it is actually rather sweet. And so even in such heightened moments as this, when I look forward to the one lifetime event that lasts for all my days, I am aware of death. Odder than this, perhaps: I am ready for it. I am not troubled by it, or bothered by it, or angered by it. It is my strong wish that I might marry Bethany, the only girl I've ever loved. But it is my strongest wish that I might glorify God, whether by an entrance into holy matrimony or an entrance into the land of last rest.
Life these days is a combination of slowed-down and sped-up. It seems incredible that I'm four days from leaving the "Singles" ranch. In one sense, I'm amazed that my departure is so close. At the same time, I feel a bit like someone has hit the slo-mo button on my life. I notice each hour that passes, and bid it farewell as I would an acquaintance after a hurried encounter. Work today was slow; not the type of slow that dreadfully grinds away, but the type that is fueled by excitement, such that one glances at the clock entirely too much. Here I am, hurtling on a speed train to my future, and I am doing so in slow motion. The mix is strange and strangely pleasant.
More than anything, I'm noticing my mortality these days. On the cusp of experiencing marriage, one of God's greatest gifts to mankind, I'm almost eerily aware of my own mortality. My wedding is not simply on the calendar. It's not written in with surety. It's written with pencil. By all accounts, it is quite plausible that the marriage of Owen Strachan and Bethany Ware will take place on Saturday, July 8th at approximately 1:45 p.m. But this is in no way certain. The Lord Christ may return at 1:35 p.m., or a car may veer into my path as I drive on some mindless errand this week. For the Christian, mortality is not distant. It is not a loosely held reality, or a future event of great probability, but a certain certainty. It does not meekly shadow; it looms. We may also say that it is not grim or horrible for the Christian; it is actually rather sweet. And so even in such heightened moments as this, when I look forward to the one lifetime event that lasts for all my days, I am aware of death. Odder than this, perhaps: I am ready for it. I am not troubled by it, or bothered by it, or angered by it. It is my strong wish that I might marry Bethany, the only girl I've ever loved. But it is my strongest wish that I might glorify God, whether by an entrance into holy matrimony or an entrance into the land of last rest.
posted by Owen at 8:23 PM
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