At the end of March, I had the opportunity to take my family and myself to the western side of the middle of Minnesota. We loaded up the van, packed a big backpack of snacks, and drove ahead of the sun all day. By all day, I mean we got to our destination as the sun was going down. We hung a left after the Mackinac Bridge, smiled at the pines in the UP, held our noses through Wisconsin, and eventually skirted Lake Middle of Nowhere to get to a quaint rental house on the lake with a fireplace and lots of board games.
The occasion was a wedding I was honored to officiate, so technically I have to say that our trip was “for a wedding.” While true, the trip was far more than just a wedding. As with any wedding, there’s a rehearsal, a rehearsal dinner, and a reception after the wedding. But additionally, this particular wedding happened to include a drive that, were I to drive straight south on I-75 from my home, I would get to Georgia in the same amount of time.
Put me on record: I am not actually complaining about the drive. My kids are at an age where it isn’t the worst thing in the world anymore. And since we went through the UP and avoided Chicago, it was actually a pretty nice drive. We avoided bad weather, listened to good music, laughed at inside jokes, and ate junk food.
No, I bring up the long journey in paradoxical comparison to the concept of a wedding.
We tend to consider a wedding as some sort of culmination of planning. To be sure, a lot of planning goes into the celebration—from the venue to the guest list, to the hors d’oeuvres—but it isn’t actually the destination.
The destination is what happens after the ceremony, in the marriage itself. In fact, the destination is the journey of marriage. Marriage isn’t one isolated party; it’s a road trip with stops along the way. I have known a lot of married couples, and I have not heard any of them, no matter how old, sitting around saying, “Well, we made it,” in reference to their life together. It just doesn’t make sense. Made it? Made it where? You’re still going until God takes one of you.
Some couples plan out the whole route, planning meticulously for any eventuality, while others just hop in the car and go. Some make reservations along the way, while others pull over and say, “This looks good, let’s just eat here.” Some have toolboxes in the trunk just in case an emergency arises, while others ignore flashing lights on the dashboard. Some take scenic routes regardless of weather warnings, while others are on the lookout for anything that might threaten their previously made plans. Some engage in long, thoughtful conversations, while others smile happily at the passing trees, content with the silent hum of the road. But no matter the finer details, what we celebrate at a wedding is the beginning of a journey.
It was fitting then, at least for this analogy, that the remaining guests at the end of the night bid Godspeed to the newly wedded couple with blessings, cheers, and delighted applause. The destination for us guests was the wedding itself—the ceremony, the reception, the overall celebration of a young couple in love. The destination for the couple is only just beginning: when they left the hall, got in their car, and started their journey.
In this case, at least, I have little doubt it will be a long and happy road trip.
