i do.

"Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish 'til death do you part?"

Even if couples choose to write their own personalized vows to read before the "I do" and "You may now kiss the bride," I've heard this said by the pastor and repeated line by line by the bride and groom at just about every [American] wedding I've ever been to. And having been an intern for a wedding planner and having been to more weddings of friends, family, family friends and church members than I can count, I've heard these words quite a few times.

So most of us have at least heard these vows before and some could probably list them off by heart. But it wasn't until a couple weekends ago that two families I love made me realize what they really meant.

"In sickness and in health..."

For many people, marriage [or if you don't believe in marriage, insert "true love," "soulmate," "life partner," "companionship," "intimacy," etc.] seems to be the goal [or at least a goal]. Sure, you may have other hopes and dreams or things you want to do beforehand, but there seems to be security in ultimately "settling down." Wouldn't it be nice to have someone to grow old with? Isn't it normal and expected to want someone to make plans and decisions with, to have fun with, to share intimacy, to share everything? Aren't we entitled to that? Isn't it what society expects of us? When you finally find your person, won't that, at long last, be it? Deep whooshing exhale...ultimate fulfillment...sappy Facebook posts...let's start a family....Right?

Maybe you're realistic enough to know that another person cannot fulfill you and that the more you want him or her to satisfy you, the more he or she will disappoint you and fall short of your lofty expectations. Okay, so maybe you get that. Or maybe you're already married and can remember wanting to be married so badly and are wondering why you ever thought this would be such a joy when your tone-deaf husband won't stop singing in the shower or your oblivious wife keeps putting the toilet paper roll on the wrong way. Or maybe things are going pretty well...you each have your quirks and pet peeves and differing opinions, but you've learned to communicate well and work through things even after the rose-colored glasses have long since been buried in the bottom of the dirty clothes hamper or accidentally thrown in the trash that is definitely his turn to take out.

So that's another level of healthy realism that acknowledges both the desire to be with someone and the reality and "it's not always rainbows and butterflies; it compromise that moves us along" [Why am I quoting a Maroon 5 throwback to middle school?]

But what if your husband is diagnosed with Lou Gehrig's Disease?

Lou Gehrig's Disease, or Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis (ALS), is a progressive neurodegenerative disease in which motor neurons reaching from the brain to the spinal cord die, causing the brain to lose the ability to initiate and control muscle movement, eventually resulting in the under-nourished muscles atrophying, or wasting away.

Two weeks ago, I visited a very dear friend of mine. I met her at a Christian conference four years ago, and we've never lived in the same city or even the same state, but we have kept in touch, I have visited her family, she and her sister came to stay with me in Rome, and whenever I'm with her I never feel like it's been months or even years since I've seen her. She's truly, to quote Anne Shirley, "a kindred spirit."

The last time I visited her family was the summer before I went to Italy. Her dad had just been diagnosed with ALS and they were planning to move to a house without stairs and wondering what else the future might hold. That weekend, her dad was a little different than the first time I had met him, but he was still kind and hospitable and funny. I had dinner with their family and her parents told me about their experience in the two-year program that I was about to do as well. We laughed and shared stories and talked about what God had been doing in each of our lives. At the time, they were on the brink of what they knew would be [and already was] a difficult time. But they never stopped trusting in the Lord's sovereignty and provision. They hadn't lost their joy.

Two weeks ago [almost three years later] I visited them again. As always, being with my friend was a blessing and it felt like we hadn't spent any time apart. We caught up on each others' lives and I told her about leaving Rome and starting grad school and I heard about some of the many ways she is so intentional about ministering to people in her life. 

She also told me how her parents had moved to their family's farm, and we went to visit them. Her mom hugged us and said, "I just finished rubbing his feet and he just laid down for a nap, but you can go in there and say hi!"

The man on the bed was much thinner than the last time I had seen him. He has trouble breathing on his own now, so he was wearing a breathing mask. But when I walked in, he immediately stretched out his arms and I bent over to hug his feeble frame. He can't communicate verbally anymore, but through gestures and spelling out words in the air, he told me, "I like your haircut! Have you lost weight? You look great!" He then proceeded to make a joke about what they would put in his feeding tube at his daughter's wedding reception. 

I've been reflecting a lot on this amazing family and their unwavering faith...and the joy and fierce love they have for each other and for God despite [or maybe even because of] difficult circumstances. How would I deal with the possibility that my dad wouldn't be able to walk me down the aisle at my wedding? What if I had to bathe my husband and help him go to the bathroom and he could no longer literally "have and hold" me or "love and cherish" me physically? Or what if my body was wasting away and I felt like a prisoner inside of it? Would I, like Job's wife, develop a "curse God and die" attitude? 

It just made me think....we are not promised health. When I envision marriage, I certainly hope and even expect that we'll have fun together, be travel buddies, serve and help each other, and make babies. But what if that's not the case?

"Til death do us part..."

Okay, it was an emotional weekend. Not only was I blessed and challenged by my friend and her family, but I also went to visit Kyra's parents. Kyra, in case this is the first post you've read, was my supervisor's wife/very dear friend who was killed in a car accident six months ago. I wasn't able to come back to the U.S. for the funeral, so this was the first time I had seen her parents and sister since the accident...the first time I saw where the tractor-trailer careened down the hill...saw pictures of the car they were in...went to the graveside...saw and heard about the struggles her family is still facing in the aftermath.

What if death does quickly and unexpectedly do us part?

Marriage [or love/companionship/intimacy/whatever] does not come with a satisfaction guarantee. It could [and probably will] include disappointment, disillusionment, inconvenience, loneliness and loss. 

So should I throw in the proverbial towel? Should I live in fear of what could happen? Is love too much of a risk? Should I still trust God when there is so much tragedy and pain and brokenness in the world? Should I dread the trials and the sufferings and the "what ifs"? 

I choose to believe Moses's words to the people of Israel in the wilderness still apply to God's people in the "wilderness" of this life before we reach the Promised Land: "Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you." [Deuteronomy 31:6]

Did the other weekend change my perspective? Do I now see the reality of the vow to be faithful "for better or for worse"? Do I now realize that I do not deserve nor am I guaranteed "better," "richer" and "in health"? Do I know that marriage is not going to bring me happiness or fulfillment? Do I now realize that, whether God's will is for me to get married or not, my life may not turn out the way I had planned or expected? Even so, do I want His will, His way? Do I believe He works all things together for the good of those who love Him and are called according to His purpose? Do I trust He has laid down His life for me in order to be in a covenantal, committed, eternal relationship with me? Do I commit to honor and love Him, no matter what [in marriage or in singleness]?

I do.