My Wedding Was Supposed to Be Today.
By: Andrew Garrigan
Tags: Personal, Grief And Loss, Christianity, Encouragement

RuthBlack / Getty Images

“My wedding was supposed to be today.”

A few years ago, I was perusing a website I frequently visit when I stumbled across that statement and quickly stopped scrolling. At that point, I had not dated anyone for some time after a disappointing end to my most recent relationship. I thought to myself, “there’s a good chance this will have some insight in dealing with romantic disappointment,” and I clicked the link and started reading.

The article was penned by blogger Calley Sivils. She opens the short piece (which you can read here, by the way, and she has other cool stuff on her blog) by talking about the life plan she crafted as a young girl to get married by age 23 and be on her way to kids, the dream job, and plenty of time for travel. “Pretty straightforward, right?” she would go on to rhetorically ask before adding, “Except the God I serve isn’t always a straightforward God.”

She revealed that she had not dated anyone for quite some time leading up to her “wedding day,” despite her desire for a romantic partner. She was disappointed with this reality and offered three ways to navigate unwanted singleness as a young Christian, all of which I found helpful and considered how to apply. However, what I did not realize those few years ago was that I was not only reading for myself then but that I was also reading for myself now.

I have stolen the title of her article for this piece because my wedding was supposed to be today — Saturday, September 4, 2021. But this was not an arbitrary date picked out in childhood, as it was for Calley (her words). In my case, there was over a year of long-distance dating, a ring purchased, “the question” answered with “yes,” a fiancé, an entry on the calendar, and a plan coming together.

It was a good plan, too, might I add. We were going to cater amazing brunch food from a popular local breakfast café (who doesn’t love breakfast and lunch!?). We had a registry going (who doesn’t love free stuff!?). We were working on finalizing the guest list to send out invitations. There were some difficulties along the way (wedding planning is stressful), and there was plenty to determine still. Yet, overall, we were having fun and on our way.

Then, all of a sudden, we weren’t having fun or on our way anymore.

Most of the details of why the engagement ended are inconsequential for this writing. But for brevity and clarity, the best way to describe what happened is that, within a month, my former fiancé and I went from planning a wedding to fighting to work through issues that surfaced to ending our engagement. It was quite possibly the most emotionally distressing few weeks of my life to date. The three months since have been a similar maelstrom.

Unfortunate life events have a way of seemingly making time stand still while simultaneously making you feel as if you are rapidly moving farther away from said event. For me, there have been times where the pace of life has seemed asinine. My schedule was full as I worked to weigh options and make decisions in my best interest practically and emotionally for the immediate future while still doing “normal” life.

Conversely, the time I was previously spending planning a life with my significant other was suddenly empty, leaving room for questions, doubts, emotions, and introspection alike. In one such moment a few weeks ago, I recognized that this day — my wedding day — would soon be approaching, and I recalled Calley’s article. In rereading it, I was again grateful for the simple lessons about Christian singleness that she inserted, which I now need to apply again.

I was also inspired to write this. I am a reader and a writer, but the writing part is more challenging for me in times of pain. I am an (irritatingly) slow emotional processor, and it can be laborious to get words on a page, let alone spoken aloud. Something that makes writing easier for me, however, is when I am writing for someone else. That is when I tend to experience more clarity of thought, and I can more easily process my thoughts.

So this writing is both for you and me.

For me, this is one of the few times I have been able to write clearly. Putting it in words is helping me process what I am feeling and learning. Furthermore, I think I am learning some things through this mess that can be useful for others in times of pain. Whether you are experiencing pain right now, experienced it in the past but have not yet processed it, or you recall this article sometime in the future as I remembered Calley’s, I genuinely hope this serves you in some way. And thank you for helping me by reading and, perhaps in some way, bearing the burden with me.

With all that said, here are some lessons I am learning as I navigate this time in life. I’ve used my name to address myself, but feel free to insert your own.

1. Andrew, actually grieve. I often notice people on social media who feel the impulse to post something encouraging, seemingly fourteen minutes after something rough happens to them. Maybe I am just a cynic, but I have a hard time believing people truly move on that quickly. In my experience, everyone faces challenges or frustrations in day-to-day life, and sometimes it just gets to you. But you wouldn’t assume that to be the case for most people with a social media account.

It seems that humanity is growing incapable of letting disappointments be what they are and taking the time to go through them. Instead, there’s this unspoken expectation to channel disappointments into some positive vibe or growth experience as quickly as possible. We do our best to make pain past-tense right away, perhaps offering that a situation “got to me,” to imply that we have already moved forward and onto the next thing, which usually entails being some sort of “inspirational.”

In fact, if you Google search “Instagram,” the top result as of this writing is an advertisement which says “Find Inspiration on Instagram — Join Instagram Today.” The platform itself is pressuring us to be inspirational to inspire other users! In response, we succumb to the pressure. We treat pain like a foreign currency, quickly exchanging it for what we value more — influence, affirmation, or simply, attention. We microwave our grief for others to consume, but, like most microwaved food, this is inauthentic and unhealthy for everyone involved — especially the one who should be grieving. (The irony of this, of course, is that I am writing about my difficulty to help others. But it took three months to get to that point and a good six days to write this, so humor me).

When we move on from pain too quickly, pressing past our emotions and focusing on whatever else, we are robbing ourselves of the grace of God that is available to us. God makes provision for time to grieve in life (Ecclesiastes 3:4, 7–8), and the Bible contains many promises about God’s nearness and the hope we can have for the future, even in times of pain.

| Psalm 34:18 | The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.

| Psalm 147:3 | He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.

To fully experience those promises in our grief, we actually have to grieve. We have to be brokenhearted. God desires us to be internally honest about what we feel.

| Psalm 51:6 | Surely you desire truth in the inner parts.

Sometimes, we have to let pain be painful and not plow through it as quickly as possible. Being inspirational, the expectations of others (boy, are these endless for those in ministry!), and the countless other pressures of life can wait.

2. Andrew, grieve with God. Christianity is not strictly about religious behavior but rather about relational connection to God Himself. God went to great lengths to restore our relationship with Him that was marred by sin and wickedness. He sent His Son, Jesus, who was sinless, to die to pay the penalty for our sins and reconcile our fractured relationship with God.

Romans 5:10 | While we were God’s enemies, we were reconciled to him through the death of his Son.

| 2 Corinthians 5:18, 21 | [God] reconciled us to himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation…God made him who had no sin to be sin for us so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.

Because of Christ’s work, anyone who believes in Him is forgiven of sin and restored into a relationship with God. We are given unprecedented access to God and specifically invited to come to Him in moments of need.

| Ephesians 2:18 | For through him we have access to the Father by one Spirit.

| Hebrews 4:16 | Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.

Through Christ, we have a relationship with God, and we have access to God. The question, then, is why do we grieve alone? In seeking the answer to this question, I recalled the story of Job, who lost more in his life than most of us could ever imagine. When that happened, his wife and friends told him, in essence, to abandon God. Job’s response is remarkable.

| Job 2:9–10 | His wife said to him, “Are you still maintaining your integrity? Curse God and die!” He replied, “You are talking like a foolish woman. Shall we accept good from God and not trouble?” In all this, Job did not sin in what he said.

I think we grieve alone because we struggle to accept trouble from God. We readily receive the blessings of life and thank the Lord for them, but if they start to look different than we expected or hoped (or worse, are taken away entirely), our attitude changes. Our thankfulness gives way to sadness, anger, or frustration at God, which drives us away from Him, the same way any other relationship we have in life strains when sadness, anger, or frustration is present.

In my own experience, the last few months have been a fluctuation of emotions. In the moments of anger or sadness, I realize how quick I am to reject trouble and how fast I am to, in a sense, abandon God. I get so wrapped in my emotions that I stop spending time with Him in prayer or worship. I stop reading what He’s written to me. God has brought me near, but in my anger or sadness, I tend to keep my distance. Consequently, that is when I feel most alone. I can feel the grief of the psalmist who feels far:

| Psalm 25:16 | Turn to me and be gracious to me, for I am lonely and afflicted.

Ironically enough, just before the psalmist pens these words, he writes the remedy to this feeling: “my eyes are ever on the Lord, for only He will release my feet from the snare” (vs. 15). The only one who can free us from the trapping of our grief and loneliness is the very One we have chosen to grieve without. We have to grieve with God.

To grieve with God is to fall back on the Gospel — to look past our limited view of what we see, and look at what is unseen (2 Corinthians 4:18). To grieve with God is to look at God’s unchanging character and look upon the beautiful truth that, on the cross, Jesus — a sorrowful man Himself — not only paid the penalty for our sins, but He also took our grief and sorrows upon Himself.

| Hebrews 12:1–2 | Let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, looking unto Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him, he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.

| Isaiah 53:3a, 4a | He was despised and rejected by men; a man of sorrows, acquainted with grief…Surely He bore our grief and carried our sorrows.

Our God went through unimaginable pain and grief for us. Any pain we feel in this life is incomparable to His own at that moment in time. But He did it joyfully. He did it for us. How marvelous, how wonderful.

When we fall back on the Gospel, the Holy Spirit reminds our spirit just how good, kind, and safe God is, and it softens the anger or sadness in our hearts. Like Job reminded his wife and friends, we become reminded of how much better life is with God than without Him, and we draw near to Him again. And that is when He draws even closer than He already is.

James 4:8a | Draw near to God, and He will draw near to you.

Coming near is not a one-time occurrence. Grieving with God is very much an ongoing effort, one that I fail in more often than I succeed. But God is compassionate with me, and He will be the same with you. His grace is sufficient in all things, and He is strong when we are weak (2 Cor. 12:8–10). In your pain, stay close to grace, and grieve with God. Pray that I do the same.

3. Andrew, grieve with purpose. This point is perhaps the one most important to me, and it is the result of applying both of the first two. If we let pain be pain and grieve but do so without God, we will likely stay in pain way longer than we need to. We will remain downtrodden, and the question of the psalmist in Psalm 43:5 will linger: “who so downcast oh my soul?”

However, if we grieve and we do it with God, we will “put our hope in God, and yet praise Him…” as the verse goes on to say. The purpose of grief is to bring us closer to God, where we are filled with hope and respond in praise of God. I think, once more, of Job. After an enumeration of his trials at the end of Job 1, he both grieves and worships!

|Job 1:20–22 | Job arose and tore his robe and shaved his head and fell on the ground and worshiped. And he said, “Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked shall I return. The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.” In all this, Job did not sin or charge God with wrong.

Listen, I am no Job! I know that grieving pain and loss is not easy, let alone worshipping in it. It is even more challenging when the pain or failure is all too familiar. Most of my romantic relationships have been long-term investments that abruptly end. It stings, all the same, each time.

Grieving is hard, and without the big picture in mind, I probably wouldn’t do it. I would rather quietly, numbly press forward with a calloused, cold heart. But that would keep me from my created purpose. That would keep my head in denial, my heart from God, and praise absent from my mouth. I would live my life in my feelings instead of in the freedom available to me in Christ. So, grieve I shall, for the sake of my purpose to bring Him praise. And if any of this has applied to you, I encourage and invite you to do the same.

In my own experience, it is not as clean or linear as I have written here. There will be days where you fail to apply any of these lessons. Sometimes you will get stuck between lessons (I think I’m there currently…). That’s okay. There is grace and strength in the process.

| Psalm 73:26 | My heart and my flesh may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.

Remember this. But remember, too, that life is about more than our little world, experiences, and trials. If we are in Christ, nothing about our life is really about us. Everything about our life is about praising Him and knowing Him.

| 1 Peter 1:3–6 | Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you, who by God’s power are being guarded through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time. In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith — more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire — may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.

My wedding was supposed to be today. I am sad that it did not happen, and there are days I wonder “why” and what I could have done differently. There is still grief to process, and I am working toward that end. But in all of this, when I put my eyes on Jesus, my perspective changes.

Today, though I am not married like I thought I would be to the person I thought I would be, I am incredibly grateful that a perfectly loving, always present, faithful Bridegroom — Christ! — is committed to me! A glorious, invigorating, totally fulfilling reception awaits me — one where I have no more sin, pain, or grief! Christ and I are wed, and He will not take His promises back.

| Ephesians 5:25b-27 | Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her to make her holy, cleansing her by the washing with water through the word, and to present her to himself as a radiant church, without stain or wrinkle or any other blemish, but holy and blameless.

| Revelation 19:7 | Let us rejoice and exult and give him the glory, for the marriage of the Lamb has come, and his Bride has made herself ready.

This same wedding reception I look forward to awaits all who put their trust in Him. I hope you have done that for salvation from sin and, if you are going through pain or loss, I hope you have done that with your grief, too.

For God’s Infinite, Eternal Praise.

Andrew