A Little Rain
12/08/12 04:20
When I moved to North Dakota 34 years ago, one of the first lessons I learned was that you never complain about the rain. It doesn’t matter what you had planned, rain is always welcome in a place that is dependent upon agriculture and often short of moisture. Dryland farming is just what the name implies. The land is dry and the farmer is dependent upon whatever moisture comes. There is another thing about North Dakota that I learned early on: the weather is never typical. If it is very hot: “This is unusual.” If it is very cold: “It’s not usually like this.” If we got a lot of snow: “It is an unusual year.” If there was no snow: “Usually we have snow by now.” Whatever weather came, it was considered to be unusual by the locals.
Rain in the middle of the day during harvest season is unusual. A few thundershowers in the late afternoon might be expected, but we just don’t get rainy days in the middle of the summer. Using the rules of North Dakota weather, then, we proceeded with an outdoor wedding yesterday despite the clouds and the rain showers that had splattered our windshield on our way to Strawberry Lake. The chairs were set up, the flowers were out, and the aisle runner was in place. The attendants were ready and the guests were seated. This is North Dakota and the people are tough, so the fact that they were getting wet, didn’t stop the folks from sitting down on the chairs.
I held an umbrella over the bride as she waited to process. Music was provided by a powerful car stereo and the wedding was underway. After a few moments, I decided that I needed to go to the front and hold the umbrella over the bride. After all she had done her hair and makeup up special, and she was wearing a beautiful dress with tiny beads sewn into it. So, with the wedding license under my jacket to keep it dry I held the umbrella up over the bride during the ceremony.
Susan was officiating and her notes were becoming wetter and wetter. At first she skipped a few words, then a sentence or two. After the reading of the scriptures, she began to skip whole paragraphs and finally a few pages. The pages were sticking to each other by this point and the words were getting hard to read because the paper became transparent when it was wet. The couple exchanged vows, exchanged rings and Susan pronounced them married. We all retreated to the relative shelter of a couple of large willow trees and within a few minutes we got in our cars and headed up the hill to a small clubhouse for the reception.
I didn’t hear anyone complain though most of us, especially the members of the wedding party, were pretty wet. We dried out after a while and everyone proceeded to have fun at the reception. The food was good, the fellowship was warm and I heard over and over how unusual it is for there to be a rain shower at 1 o’clock in the afternnon in the middle of the summer.
Of course, it rained for the rest of the afternoon and into the evening.
It was the second outdoor wedding that we have attended this summer that was rained upon. From my point of view, it really isn’t all that unusual. But I didn’t say anything.
The story of the rainy wedding will be a good one to tell for years to come and will provide the couple with plenty of entertainment as the seasons pass. Whatever discomfort they felt yesterday will soon fade from memory and they will remember that they endured despite a few drops of rain. There is, I think, an important lesson in the rain that will be valuable to them as they live their lives: Life isn’t predictable. Sometimes you have to adapt.
Popular culture encourages young people to imagine the perfect wedding ceremony. They spend a lot of energy thinking about clothing, flowers, special symbols, and lots of other details. They imagine how they will feel when everything is perfectly in place. But life, and marriage, is rarely “perfect.” There are all kinds of unforeseen challenges that come our way. When a couple promises “in sickness and health, in plenty and want, in joy and in sorrow,” they have no idea what sicknesses might come their way. They don’t know what financial resources they will have or what setbacks they will face. They can’t anticipate the grief they will experience or the joys they will discover.
Marriage vows are a promise about a future that cannot be predicted. We make promises without knowing what they mean because we cannot know what path our future will take. Nearly 40 years into a marriage, this is obvious to us. We look back and know that we could have never imagined all of the things that have happened. We knew that we were heading towards the ministry as a career, but had no clue what churches we would be called to serve. We knew we loved the mountains of Montana, but had no idea where we would live. We thought we might one day have children, but couldn’t imagine the joy of holding a grandchild in our arms. We had dreams of traveling, but couldn’t have imagined all of the places we have gone together. We knew the love of close families, but didn’t imagine what it would be like to have our parents live with us in their times of dying.
So, as a couple of the elders we watched this young couple boldly declare their love for each other and promise “for as long as we both shall live.” We are aware of the challenges they will face. We know life won’t be easy for them. We know that they don’t have a clue about what they’re getting themselves into. And we celebrate their boldness and youth and enthusiasm and love.
A little rain on the wedding day is nothing compared to the challenges that are coming their way. They did very well with the rain. We have high hopes for the challenges of their future.
Rain in the middle of the day during harvest season is unusual. A few thundershowers in the late afternoon might be expected, but we just don’t get rainy days in the middle of the summer. Using the rules of North Dakota weather, then, we proceeded with an outdoor wedding yesterday despite the clouds and the rain showers that had splattered our windshield on our way to Strawberry Lake. The chairs were set up, the flowers were out, and the aisle runner was in place. The attendants were ready and the guests were seated. This is North Dakota and the people are tough, so the fact that they were getting wet, didn’t stop the folks from sitting down on the chairs.
Susan was officiating and her notes were becoming wetter and wetter. At first she skipped a few words, then a sentence or two. After the reading of the scriptures, she began to skip whole paragraphs and finally a few pages. The pages were sticking to each other by this point and the words were getting hard to read because the paper became transparent when it was wet. The couple exchanged vows, exchanged rings and Susan pronounced them married. We all retreated to the relative shelter of a couple of large willow trees and within a few minutes we got in our cars and headed up the hill to a small clubhouse for the reception.
I didn’t hear anyone complain though most of us, especially the members of the wedding party, were pretty wet. We dried out after a while and everyone proceeded to have fun at the reception. The food was good, the fellowship was warm and I heard over and over how unusual it is for there to be a rain shower at 1 o’clock in the afternnon in the middle of the summer.
Of course, it rained for the rest of the afternoon and into the evening.
It was the second outdoor wedding that we have attended this summer that was rained upon. From my point of view, it really isn’t all that unusual. But I didn’t say anything.
Popular culture encourages young people to imagine the perfect wedding ceremony. They spend a lot of energy thinking about clothing, flowers, special symbols, and lots of other details. They imagine how they will feel when everything is perfectly in place. But life, and marriage, is rarely “perfect.” There are all kinds of unforeseen challenges that come our way. When a couple promises “in sickness and health, in plenty and want, in joy and in sorrow,” they have no idea what sicknesses might come their way. They don’t know what financial resources they will have or what setbacks they will face. They can’t anticipate the grief they will experience or the joys they will discover.
Marriage vows are a promise about a future that cannot be predicted. We make promises without knowing what they mean because we cannot know what path our future will take. Nearly 40 years into a marriage, this is obvious to us. We look back and know that we could have never imagined all of the things that have happened. We knew that we were heading towards the ministry as a career, but had no clue what churches we would be called to serve. We knew we loved the mountains of Montana, but had no idea where we would live. We thought we might one day have children, but couldn’t imagine the joy of holding a grandchild in our arms. We had dreams of traveling, but couldn’t have imagined all of the places we have gone together. We knew the love of close families, but didn’t imagine what it would be like to have our parents live with us in their times of dying.
So, as a couple of the elders we watched this young couple boldly declare their love for each other and promise “for as long as we both shall live.” We are aware of the challenges they will face. We know life won’t be easy for them. We know that they don’t have a clue about what they’re getting themselves into. And we celebrate their boldness and youth and enthusiasm and love.
A little rain on the wedding day is nothing compared to the challenges that are coming their way. They did very well with the rain. We have high hopes for the challenges of their future.