Simon and I met in February last year - having found each other on a Christian dating site, and started talking, we found that we just clicked. After getting engaged in December, we had taken some time before setting the date for our wedding - because we wanted to make sure we were prepared relationally before jumping in to the rush of wedding planning.
In a culture where weddings are increasingly expensive and centred around fulfilling the bride’s dreams and desires, I had always wanted to have a wedding that stood out for a different reason.
To me, a wedding should not be about making the bride look good, or showing off her family’s wealth or hospitality. The wedding is a celebration of two becoming one. Hospitality is an important part of it, but only to aid this celebration.Marriage is sacred to us as Christians, because in marriage, we remember a picture of something much greater- the joining of ourselves, the church, to Jesus Christ. As far as fancy things like decorations, flowers, and a pretty dress, these to me are only extras. These extras are nice, don’t get me wrong. I do particularly love flowers and dancing, but the more you focus on these things, the more you have to focus on, and the more you can seem to let go of what is really important- you’re getting married. You’re vowing your life to another person- creating what should be the strongest bond that can be created between humans.
Finally, in late February, we talked to our parents and decided to set the wedding date for July. I was so excited, but so nervous. In the weeks that followed, especially as I started my final year of studies, I began to feel more and more pressure, I couldn't focus in class because thoughts of all the decisions I had yet to make for the wedding pressed in around me from every side. What colours would my bridesmaids wear? I allowed them to choose their own colours, but then worried about whether they would look good together. What would we do for the food? Simon wanted his groomsmen in coloured waistcoats. How would these not clash with my bridesmaids?
In the background of these worries, I watched through the TV screen as an outbreak of disease began, far away, in China. This was the fourth epidemic I had watched through a TV screen in my lifetime. SARS had affected me because it had meant my dad got to stay home and play with me for several days after returning from a trip to China. Swine flu made it here, when I was 11, it hadn't become widespread, and hadn't even scared me. The Ebola outbreak in my early years of high school had been terrible because many of those affected had such limited resources, but again, I had watched through a screen, cried, prayed. I had always cared about the people I knew were suffering, but I had learned in my life that if I allowed myself to become weighed down with other's sorrow all the time, I would never do anything else, so a protective emotional disconnect remained in place. The idea that this new outbreak might become a problem for us here was unimaginable.
Then one day, less than two weeks ago, it became apparent that it would affect us. Simon asked me how I would feel if we had to have a small ceremony with just our friends who lived locally. Suddenly realised the truth - I would feel relieved if that were the case. Instead of doing all the things you 'have' to do for a wedding, we would actually end up simply celebrating the beginning of our married life. Since we began planning the wedding, I had been operating with inclusivity as a priority. I would rather invite all those friends and family who had been part of our lives, and spend $5 feeding each, than regret that a friend couldn't join because I couldn't afford their crayfish dinner. However, operating on this basis meant that we were looking at inviting around 150 people, and this had silently been adding to the weight on my shoulders. We called family and let them know of this possibility. Understandably, some would not be happy if they were unable to be at the wedding due to travel restrictions. We also heard of bans of large gatherings in other countries, and realised there was a possibility that we wouldn't be able to have much of a gathering at all, so we resolved that plan B would be to satisfy the legal side with whatever number of people we were legally allowed, and then to hold a renewal of vows and reception later. I do remember saying to Simon. "But what if they put us into lockdown like they have in Spain? Where only one person is allowed out to get groceries?" "I don't think that will happen in New Zealand" he said.
Well, now New Zealand is in lockdown. If the current restrictions remain in place on the date we planned, we will not legally be able to get married. Even if we had a marriage license, we are not allowed to ask an officiant to come to marry us. Simon's parents would not be allowed to travel to see us get married. Even my gran who lives a 5 minute walk away would not be allowed. At the moment, I have no clue what will become of our wedding plans. It seems unthinkable that the current level of alert and restrictions would stay in place this long, but it seemed unthinkable that it would happen at all just two weeks ago. I let all of this worry and grieve me for a day, but then I stopped.
I realised that I was grieving over a plan, which I had put a lot of energy into, but which had become adverse to the values I originally thought I had about a wedding. I had originally wanted our wedding to focus on celebrating our union, and the union of Christ with the Church. So quickly, I had gotten tied up in worrying about the very details I didn't value.
I actually feel relieved now. I am not currently doing any work at all toward the wedding, because I don't know what is going to happen, and I know that whatever does happen, I'm getting married, and that is the most important part.
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