Fun fact: my grandma had an arranged marriage. But it wasn’t one of those things where she had no say in the matter. In fact, according to her, she turned down seven men before deciding on my grandfather. When asked how she chose, she said, and I quote, “I looked at him and thought, ‘eh, he looks alright.’” SO romantic, I know. But they were married 54 years before my dear grandpapa passed away in 2011.
Although the idea of an arranged marriage has been thrown my way by a few Indian relatives, I’d probably have to decline. Nevertheless, there is something about the idea that I appreciate so much more than what recent generations of American culture have turned marriage into. And that, my friends, is commitment.
Those who are in love are naturally inclined to make promises. However, a promise must be about things that one can do. No one can promise a feeling.
I get the feels. I get them all the time and pretty much about anything. Most recently, I got them as I took my first, long awaited bite of THE infamous Disney turkey leg (Walter’s finest achievement if you ask me). I’d like to say I could eat one of those turkey legs every day of my life and love it, but I’d get over it pretty quick.
Am I really comparing marriage to deliciously smoked turkey legs? Maybe. But here’s the deal. Promises made in love are intended to be kept even when the feeling of love is nowhere to be found. Yes folks, you won’t be in love forever. But to quote the man himself, C.S. Lewis, “…ceasing to be ‘in love’ need not mean ceasing to love.” Falling in love leads you to make a promise of fidelity; it’s the spark that starts it all. But it is the quieter, every day love that counts. This quieter love exists even when you don’t like your spouse. It exists when it would be easier to be “in love” with someone else. It exists when you are shaking in anger, torn apart by careless words and wondering if you’d be better off moving on. This love is an honorable love because it is a choice. And you have chosen to stay.
I don’t know about you, but I would like someone to love me even when I’m terrible. I don’t want them to love the terrible things about me - that would be weird. I would, however, like them to love me enough to stick with me and encourage me as I grow through and out of such habits and as I do the same for them. I think that might be one of the ways love deepens.
Again, C.S. Lewis comes in clutch when he describes the process like this: “Let the thrill go – let it die away – go on through that period of death into the quieter interest and happiness that follows – and you will find you are living in a world of new thrills all the time…The man who has settled down to live in a beautiful spot will soon discover gardening.”
Fall in love, get married, and then stay. Who knows what beautiful things will grow.
